Time's Secret
by 1066AndAllThat
Summary: When Severus Snape meddled with time, he had no idea of the consequences it would have...and neither did Hermione. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! So, I am back with another story. This one has been rolling around in my mind for a long while. This story is dedicated to an amazing author and friend, Jenni.**

**Hope you all enjoy!**

**Time's Secret**

**Chapter 1**

**~x~**

**August, 1999**

The squeal of a car's brakes and the heated, angry exchange that quickly followed dragged Severus from his dreamless sleep. He muttered to himself, annoyed that he'd forgotten the shut the window again. Within another hour, Brick Lane would be alive with market vendors and punters and sleep would be nearly impossible. He sighed, raking his hands through his black hair, pushing it away from his face. Turning over in the bed, a tender smile touched his lips as he stared at the woman sleeping next to him. Her skin was smooth, silken to the touch. The bed sheets sculpted her slender body and Severus allowed his gaze to wander along it, once more asking himself what he had done to deserve her.

Quietly sliding from the bed, Severus lifted a pair of faded jeans from the floor. Pulling them on and buttoning them, he then shrugged a navy t-shirt down over his lean frame. He found his trainers where he'd kicked them off by the door the night before and slipped his feet into them. After tucking his wand safely into his belt he covered it with his t-shirt. He crossed the room and opening his backpack, he unzipped one of the inner pockets. A shaft of light streaming in from a gap in the curtains glinted off a piece of metal. Severus carefully lifted the modified time-turner from the pocket, now knowing without a doubt what he wanted to do. Looping the chain of the time-turner around his neck, he quietly crept back to the bed. He wanted so much to wake Hermione up, to tell her what he was about to do…to tell her the truth. But he couldn't, at least, not yet.

Leaning down, he kissed her pouted lips softly, then whispered. "I love you, Hermione."

With one last lingering look he turned and left the room without a noise. As he crossed the small living room, still shrouded in darkness, Severus thought to leave her a note, but quickly decided against it. Besides, he would be back before she awakened. The front door to Hermione's flat closed with a soft click, and taking the stairs, he was soon standing out on the street. Several vendors were already setting up their stalls, but none of them took any notice of a greasy haired young man. Severus shoved his hands into his pockets, picking up his pace as he strode along Brick Lane. He didn't have much time. Cars would soon be bumper to bumper on the roads and for what he was about to do he needed them devoid of traffic.

Up ahead, Severus saw a few teenagers in hoodies, lurking in the doorway of a vacant shop. He kept his head down, knowing better than to make eye contact with them. Even if Hermione hadn't warned him in the past not to aggravate them, he'd had enough unpleasant experiences of his own to know that it didn't take much to become the victim of some cruel sport. Bitter memories forced their way into his mind, as did the faces of the Marauders – his tormentors.

"Here, mate," one of the scruffy youths called. "You got a light?"

An unlit cigarette hung from the teenager's lips. Severus simply shook his head and kept walking. Rounding the corner, he hurried along the street. It wasn't far now, only another quarter mile or so. As he walked his thoughts drifted to Hermione, and to the day he first met her.

_In a small, dingy flat he'd rented on the outskirts of central London, Severus began experimenting with a time-turner he'd managed to acquire in Knockturn Alley. He had left Hogwarts for good that June, and he had no intentions of returning to Spinner's End. He wanted nothing more to do with that place. After all, he was eighteen now and he could do whatever he pleased. For several weeks, he made detailed notes and diagrams before finally making slight modifications to the time-turner. On the morning of January twenty first, Severus stood in his pokey living room and moved the time-turner…forward. _

_BEEP! _

"_Get off the road you bloody idiot!" a man shouted from his car window._

_Severus leapt back from the bonnet of the car in horror. Where in Merlin's name was his flat? As the car drove off, Severus felt for the time-turner, only to realise it was gone. Panic set in and his heart pounded in his chest as he saw it lying on the ground, all but crushed by the car's wheel._

"_Damn it," he said. _

_Scooping up the damaged time-tuner, Severus hurried off the road. He looked about the street but only the park behind him was familiar. A road now ran through the exact place where his flat should have been. Realising that some people were openly gawking at him, he retreated into the park. Raking his hands through his hair, he tried to calm his roiling thoughts. What had he done? How could he have been so stupid? But, more importantly, how in hell was he supposed to get back to his own time? _

_Slumping down on a park bench, he placed his head in his hands, once more cursing himself for being so reckless. _

"_Excuse me, are you ok?" _

_Severus lifted his head, groaning inwardly. This was not what he needed right now. His mind worked, trying to think of an excuse to send the young muggle woman on her way. _

"_I'm fine," he said, a little sharper than he'd intended. _

_His answer didn't seem to satisfy her as she remained rooted to the spot and continued to stare at him. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's the middle of January and you're sitting on a park bench wearing a t-shirt…"_

"_So that's a crime now, is it?" he snapped. _

"_No, but clearly you have some sort of insane death wish," she said curtly, "So, I'll leave you to it." _

_Severus saw her arms tighten around the books clutched against her chest. And just before she turned, he read one word that made his heart start pounding again: potions. _

"_Wait," he said, scrambling to his feet, then lowered his voice. "You're a…a witch?" _

_Her brown eyes widened slightly. "And you are?" _

_Severus had covered this eventuality; that he might have to speak with someone from the future. "Septimius Parr," he said, raising his t-shirt slightly to show her his wand. _

"_I don't remember you from Hogwarts," she said._

_Severus noted the suspicion in her voice. _

"_I attended Drumstrang," he replied, hoping she wouldn't ask any probing questions on his time there._

"_I see," she said, then frowned. "Have we met before? It's just, you seem awfully familiar."_

"_No, I don't think we have, Miss…uh…"_

"_Hermione Granger," she said as concern filled her face again. "Mr Parr, do you have somewhere to go? I'm going to a little café on the other side of the park. It's a muggle café, though, but it's usually rather quiet…and it's warm."_

_A small voice in his head warned him that he should walk away that moment. _

_Severus shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not." _

_It was only a coffee, and besides, when was the last time a pretty girl had asked him anywhere. _

_After a short walk, they both settled themselves in to a booth at the back of the quaint little café. Hermione had been right, it wasn't busy, and it was warm. He hadn't realised how cold he was until he had been hit by a blast of warm air upon entering the café. Glancing at the books Hermione had set down on the table, he ran his gaze along their spines, somewhat taken aback by the titles. Apart from himself, he didn't know anyone else who'd read these particular books. _

"_So, Mr Parr…" she began._

"_Call me Septimius," he said. The name sounded funny on his lips. Nevertheless, Severus silently congratulated himself on the ingeniousness of his 'name'. Septimius Severus was a ruthless Roman Emperor, while Katherine Parr was the sixth wife of Henry VIII and overseer of Snape Castle. _

_Hermione gave him a half smile before continuing. "Have you got somewhere to stay in London, Septimius?" _

_Masking his nervousness, Severus decided that vague answers would be best. "I thought I did, but everything's changed so much." _

_Grief clouded Hermione's eyes and Severus wondered what he had said wrong._

"_I know what you mean…the War…" Her mouth trembled slightly as her voice trailed off. _

_The War, what war? Severus' stomach tightened and the small voice seemed to grow louder. He shouldn't be talking with Hermione; he should be trying to find a way to fix his bloody time-turner. And now she'd gone and mentioned a war…a war with who? His curiosity was like a ravenous wolf, but Severus knew he could not feed it. _

"_Yeah, the War," he said softly. "I don't really want to talk about it."_

_Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. "No, me neither." _

_Wanting to change the subject, Severus picked up one of her books: 'Beyond Advanced Potions'. "Have you read this yet? It's fascinating, although I don't agree with Lockfort's methodology for brewing a Draught of Peace."_

_The slightly shocked expression on her face, accompanied by her silence made Severus wonder if she even had any intention of reading these books. _

"_You've…you've read that?" she finally asked. _

"_Yes."_

_A smile slowly crept onto her face. "It is a fascinating read, and I agree with your views on the Draught of Peace. After adding the powdered moonstone, the potion should be allowed to simmer for seven minutes before adding the hellebore. Not directly after the moonstone as Professor Lockfort suggests." _

"_My thoughts exactly!" Severus said. _

"_We brewed a Draught of Peace in fifth year at school. Our Potions professor instructed us in the 'revised' version." She laughed softly. "Although, that didn't stop half the class making a mess of their draughts."_

_Severus' lips curved in a smirk. He was beginning to like Hermione Granger. _

Snapped from his thoughts by the roar of a lorry as it drove by, Severus realised he was almost there. He knew he shouldn't have met Hermione again after that afternoon they had spent drinking coffee and discussing potions books. He should have avoided her at all costs. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. Hermione was, in a word, brilliant. She could not only hold her own in their discussions, but she challenged him, and sometimes left him grappling for answers. At first he convinced himself that he needed to keep seeing her; she would be able to get him what he required from Diagon Alley to fix his time-turner. He couldn't risk being seen there, especially by Professor Dumbledore. Soon, however, Severus' need to keep seeing her outstripped any excuse he could conjure up.

He had fallen in love with her.

Severus wasn't sure he would ever understand why Hermione had returned his feelings. He had practically nothing to offer her and he was far from what many would consider handsome. His pale skin, hooked nose and thin lips had never earned him a second glance from any girl. Nevertheless, Hermione loved him and the last eight months had been the happiest of his life.

Severus finally reached his destination – the middle of a road. He was certain if anyone saw him standing there they would think him mad. But, if Severus wished to return to his dingy flat this is where he needed to be. He had made up his mind that he wanted to remain with Hermione. It hadn't been an easy decision, and for weeks he had battled with the argument that he could do irrevocable damage to the time-line if he chose to remain with her. However, it was a risk Severus was willing to take. He was a loner after all; no one would miss him. And what purpose would he have served? Becoming the Potions professor at Hogwarts was hardly the future he envisioned for himself.

Holding the time-tuner in his hand, Severus turned it backwards. In a split second he was standing back in his dimly lit living room. Nothing had changed. He had come back just moments after the time he had left. Steam was still rising from his coffee cup and the butter was still melting over his toasted crumpets. Hurrying into his bedroom, he grabbed four books from a shelf and stuffed them into a bag. He gathered up several other items; things he was unwilling to leave in the past.

Once he was back with Hermione he would tell her the truth of who he was, and _when _he was from. He was under no illusions, though, that it was something she would be able to accept lightly. But, he hoped that she of all people would understand why he wasn't able to tell her the truth from the beginning. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Severus decided that this time he would go to the park to use the time-turner.

_CRACK!_

Severus froze.

"Severus Snape!" a voice called from the living room.

The bedroom door creaked on its hinges as he emerged out into the living room. Severus' pulse hammered in his throat and his mouth went dry. Two Unspeakables loomed ominously before him – did they already know what he had done?

"Y-Yes?" Severus said, trying to control his fear.

One of the Unspeakables walked towards him and grabbed the time-turner hanging around Severus' neck, snapping the chain. "You are under arrest, Mr Snape, for the illegal use of a time-turner."

Before he could protest, the Unspeakable took hold of his arm and disapparated. Severus' stomach heaved as they apparated at the Ministry of Magic. He was then half-dragged through corridors, his fear tinged with mortification at the curious stares of other wizards and witches. The Unspeakables stopped outside a door motioning for Severus to enter the room. A table and two chairs were the only things in the room.

"Sit!" the Unspeakable said.

Severus had never been so afraid in his life. Never for one moment had he thought he would be caught using a time-turner. He swallowed hard. He knew the punishment for illegal time-travelling: life imprisonment in Azkaban. His throat tightened with emotion; he was never going to see Hermione again. Suddenly he wished he had told her the truth from the beginning. She was going to wake up and think that he had simply abandoned her.

"Don't I get to make a call or something?" he said lamely, remembering something he'd heard on a muggle television programme.

"No."

The other Unspeakable stepped forward. "Mr Snape, do you realise the seriousness of your reckless actions?"

Severus lowered his gaze. He did.

"You're going to be spending a very long time in Azkaban, Mr Snape…"

"No, I don't think he will be."

Severus snapped his head towards the door, relief flooding him. Professor Dumbledore had never been such a welcoming sight. The Hogwart's headmaster, however, didn't meet his gaze, but Severus could feel his disappointment and anger towards him.

"This is a Ministry matter, Dumbledore," the Unspeakable said tersely.

"It was a Ministry matter." Dumbledore held up a scroll. "Severus is to be handed over to me."

The two Unspeakables shared an uncertain glance before one of them took the scroll from Dumbledore. He tore open the seal and quickly scanned through the release form. "Very well," he said. "But what you are proposing to do will be carried out in this room, under our supervision."

Dumbledore nodded. "Agreed, but first I want a word with Severus. Alone, if you will."

There was a sense of finality with the slamming of the interrogation room's door. Suddenly Severus didn't want to be left alone with Dumbledore. He didn't want the full force of his disappointment boring into him.

"Professor," Severus said, his lip trembling slightly. "What is going to happen to me?"

Dumbledore stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him. "The Ministry is very clear on the laws concerning time-travel, Severus," he finally said.

Severus couldn't be sure, but somehow Dumbledore didn't seem overly surprised by what he had done.

"I have, however, managed to convince the Ministry not to send you to Azkaban. On one condition."

"What condition, Professor?" Severus asked, his throat tightening again.

"That you agree to have all the memories from your time-travelling obliviated."

Severus' heart dropped to his stomach. He couldn't do it. His memories were all he had left of Hermione. "Professor, I…can't…"

"Severus!" Dumbledore's voice took on a strength Severus had seldom heard. "I will not stand back and allow you to throw your life away. Obliviating your memories is the only way. Don't think, my boy the Dementors won't feed off every happy thought you have, until you're nothing more than an empty shell."

Severus closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat. Dumbledore was right. Either way he was going to lose all his memories of Hermione. Better then to have them removed instantly than to have them slowly harvested by Dementors. Severus felt the light touch of Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder and heard him whispering something that sent a tingling sensation across his forehead. After a moment, the old wizard straightened and called out for the Unspeakables to re-enter the room.

"We're ready," Dumbledore said as the two men opened the door.

Opening his eyes, Severus took a deep breath. He wasn't ready; he didn't think he ever would be. Once more Dumbledore stood beside him, and removing his wand, he held it close to Severus' head.

"It's for the best, Severus," Dumbledore said.

A single tear slipped down Severus' cheek. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered.

"_Obliviate!_"


	2. Chapter 2

**All right, here's the next chapter...Enjoy!**

**Thanks, Jenni...**

**Chapter 2**

**~x~**

**September, 1999**

Hermione Granger lugged her wooden trunk behind her as she boarded the Hogwart's Express. She'd purposely arrived an hour before the train was due to leave Platform 9 ¾, wanting to avoid the crush of parents and students. Sliding open a door to a compartment, she quickly closed it behind her and charmed it. The students could pull and wave their wands at it all they liked, but it was never going to open for them. The last thing Hermione wanted was to have to listen to stories of summer loves and woes.

She just wanted to be left alone.

After securing her trunk on the rack above the seats, she slumped down onto a seat and stared out the window. It felt strange to be back on the Hogwart's Express and even stranger to be travelling on her own, without Harry and Ron. She hadn't heard from either of her best friends in months. After Voldemort's defeat, they had readily accepted an offer to join the Aurors to track down Death Eaters who had escaped and were now hiding in Europe. Hermione, on the other hand, had seen enough horror and bloodshed to last her two lifetimes. And besides, even if she had wanted to go, she was pretty sure Harry and Ron would have done everything in their power to stop her.

It was not long before the first students materialised from the muggle side of King's Cross Station into the wizarding world. Hermione pulled the blind down, feeling her throat tighten with emotion as students hugged their families' goodbye and friends were reunited. Her own parents were still in Australia, still blissfully unaware of her existence. It hurt too much to even think about them carrying on their lives without her. But, at least they were alive. She reminded herself daily that they could have been cruelly tortured and murdered by Voldemort; it was for their safety that she had obliviated her from their memories. However, one day she would find a way to reverse the spell and bring her parents home.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the white parchment of a letter sticking out of her handbag. She had received the letter two weeks ago, and it was the reason why she was now on the Hogwart's Express. Lifting it out of her handbag, she unrolled the parchment and re-read the carefully penned words.

_Dear Miss Granger, _

_With regards to the letter sent to you two months ago, detailing your two year placement at Snoser's Apothecary, the Ministry regrets to inform you that this placement is no longer available. However, we have already contacted Professor Snape, and he has agreed to allow you to carry out your training in the Apothecary department at Hogwarts. You will be expected at arrive at the school on 1__st__ September, and will receive all the necessary work to be completed for this coming term. _

_Yours sincerely _

_Tilda Rivers_

Hermione had applied to for a post as a researcher in the Ministry of Magic. However, before she could begin any formal work for the Ministry, she was required to do a two year placement in the area of their chosen field. She remembered the morning she had received the letter and how her heart had sank at the thought of having to leave London. Snoser's Apothecary had been perfect. It was a twenty minute walk from her flat – she preferred walking to apparating. But, most of all, she would not have had to leave Septimius.

_Septimius…_

Hermione's chest tightened and her eyes burned with hot, angry tears at the thoughts of him. She had received her letter the morning he had left her, abandoned her without a word of his whereabouts or if he was even coming back.

At first panic had gripped her, wondering if he had an accident, or worse. She had rushed to St. Mungo's and then had searched for him in all the muggle hospitals in London. For days she had paced her flat, unable to sleep, terrified that she was going to open the _Daily Prophet _one morningand read that his body had been discovered in some dank alley. Finally, she had been unable to bear the torment any longer and had sent a letter to Drumstrang, asking if they had a home address for Septimius on their records. To her utter horror the school had written back, informing her that they had no record of a Septimius Parr ever having attended Drumstrang. Thinking that there had been some kind of mistake, Hermione had gone to Arthur Weasley.

Hermione closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against the carriage window. She wished now she had never asked Ron's father to search the Ministry's record office.

"_I'm sorry, Hermione," Arthur Weasley had said. "But the Ministry doesn't have any record of a Septimius Parr. Perhaps he wasn't born in Britain. You could try contacting the American Ministry of Magic and see if they can help you." _

Hermione hadn't bothered writing to America. The truth was obvious: Septimius had lied to her.

Her eyes brimming with tears, Hermione stood up and pulled down the blinds on the compartment's door. She didn't want any students to see her in such a state. As she sat back down, she heard the low rumble of the engine and the hissing of steam. A moment later, the carriage jerked slightly as the train pulled away from the platform. It would be hours before they reached Hogwarts, but she had come well prepared for the journey. Puling out a book from the handbag, she flicked through the pages to where she had left off. She had only read a few pages though when she slammed the book shut.

Why couldn't she stop thinking about _him_!

In the aftermath of the war Hermione had been slowly drowning; Septimius had been her lifeline. So many people had been lost: Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, Tonks…Fred. She had left the wizarding world and rented a flat in London, unsure if she would ever return to it again. Then Septimius had entered her life. He was snarky and at times he was downright rude and arrogant but, he was brilliant. She had relished their discussions, and the more she had gotten to know him, the more she had seen past the cold hard mask he wore.

Now he was gone, vanished without a trace, and she hated him for it.

So many questions were running circles in her mind. She wanted to find him and confront him; didn't she deserve to know why he had simply decided to cut her out of his life…why he had lied to her. Hermione wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. He might have been able to forget what they had shared together, but she couldn't. And she wasn't sure if she ever would.

The next several hours dragged by, until, finally, the train began to slow as it approached Hogsmeade Station. Hermione waited until her carriage had emptied before she even attempted to leave the compartment. Once more lugging her trunk behind her, she stepped off the train, looking forward to seeing Hogwarts for the first time in over a year. The _Daily Prophet_ had published monthly updates on the castle's reconstruction, and, according to this month's edition, the last of the rebuilding was almost complete.

"Firs'-years over 'ere…firs'-years over 'ere!"

Hermione smiled at the familiar voice calling out behind her. She turned around and saw Hagrid holding up a lantern, beckoning the new first years towards him. They gaped up at him, some of them seemingly terrified by his huge stature. She remembered her first year at Hogwarts…when Dumbledore had been headmaster. She sighed heavily; the school had never been the same after his death. Snape was headmaster now, and while Harry had told her the truth of Snape's role in the war, it didn't mean she had to suddenly start liking her old Potions professor. Even now his contemptible sneers still echoed in her mind: _"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger… Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."_

Snapping herself from her thoughts, she walked towards the horseless coaches. As much as she wanted to speak with Hagrid, she did not want to distract him from his duty. There would be plenty of other chances to talk with him; after all, she was going to be at Hogwarts for the next two years.

Soon Hermione was standing in the Entrance Hall, her mind awash with countless memories, some good and some she would rather forget. As students continued to pile in through the front doors, she hauled her trunk over the side to avoid being trampled on. She watched wistfully as they entered the Great Hall and wondered if the War had lessened inter-House rivalries. Somehow, though, she doubted it. Voldemort might be dead, but prejudices had been ingrained in wizarding families long before the rise of the Dark Lord.

"Hermione Granger!"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, smiling at the Transfiguration professor.

Minerva McGonagall rushed towards her former student, embracing her warmly. "It is good to see you again, Hermione, and I am delighted that you are going to be here for quite some time."

Hermione gazed around her, unable to believe how everything looked exactly as it had before the War. "It's going to be little different this time around, though."

"Yes, I can imagine," Minerva said, then arched an eyebrow slightly. "And without Mr Potter and Mr Weasley here I think you might find the term a tad dull."

Hermione laughed softly. "No doubt."

"Rooms have been made ready for you in the guest quarters if you wish to go there now and rest a while," Minerva said, noting the weariness etched on Hermione's face.

"Thank you, Professor."

"I spoke with Professor Snape earlier, and he said that if I saw you first to let you know that he would like to see you in his study this evening."

Hermione nodded, although she wasn't particularly in the mood for speaking with Professor Snape this evening.

"I will see you later, Hermione," Professor McGonagall said, as Hagrid's booming voice directed the first years up the stairs. "After you've seen Professor Snape, come and join me in my office for a cup of tea and a ginger biscuit."

Hermione laughed again. "Of course, Professor, I'd love to."

"Oh, and the password for Professor Snape's office is _moonstone_." Minerva called over her shoulder.

A short while later, Hermione, having found her room in the guest quarters, sat on the floor and opened up her trunk to unpack. She lifted out her clothes and set them on the bed; she would fold them away later. As she lifted her toiletries out, her gaze fell on a small, leather bound book. Slowly reaching out to pick it up, she turned it over in her hand, running her fingers over the worn leather. It was Septimius'. He must have been in such a hurry to leave her that he had forgotten it. She had tried every charm she knew but each one had failed to open it. In the end, she came to the conclusion that Septimius must have charmed it to only open at either his command or his touch.

She unbuckled a black satchel and shoved the journal in amongst several other books and rolls of parchment. She had seriously thought about throwing it into the Whomping Willow's deadly branches, but reason had overcome her emotions. There was a chance that Professor Flitwick might know of a charm that would open the journal. Hermione was certain that whatever Septimius had written in it could give her the answers that she desperately sought – answers that would help her to pick up the shattered pieces and move on with her life.

The clock on her wall chimed eight. Hermione groaned inwardly, wishing to she did not have to speak with Snape tonight. She was not required to wear a uniform or robes, but to avoid any comments, mainly from the students, she changed into clothes that were _less muggle_. The door to her room closed with a soft click and waving her wand, she put a charm on it. Turning, she glanced up the corridor, and froze. No, it couldn't be.

What was _he_ doing here?

Draco Malfoy's normally sleek blond hair was tangled mess and his clothes were hanging off his painfully thin frame. His cold grey eyes met hers, his lips curling in a sneer. Hermione's fingers hovered over her wand, but when Draco simply turned away from her without a word, she was left stunned. He quickly disappeared though a door, slamming it behind him. Not wanting to hang around in case Draco changed his mind about a confrontation, she hurried along the corridor, making straight for Snape's office.

"Moonstone," Hermione said upon reaching the entrance to the headmaster's study.

The gargoyle jumped aside and the stone wall groaned as it opened. It felt odd as she ascended the moving stairs, knowing that it would not be Dumbledore who would greet her. She reached the polished door and gently rapped the it with the griffin knocker, not understanding why she suddenly felt so nervous.

"Come in," Snape's silky voice sounded from the otherside of the door.

Hermione took a deep breath and entered. Snape, seemingly engrossed in writing a letter, left her standing a long moment before he finally raised his head to acknowledge her. His greasy black hair hung about his pale face as he stared at her, his obsidian eyes almost boring into her.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," he said his tone cold as she remembered it.

Swallowing hard, she said, "I just want to thank you, Professor, for allowing me to come to Hogwarts at such short notice."

Snape placed the quill in his hand back into an inkpot. "If not for the straight 'O's' in your OWLs and NEWTs, Miss Granger, I assure you, you would not be here."

Hermione tried not to take his remark personally. She was, however, glad that she had decided to sit her NEWTs. Having already read the required texts, she had written to the Ministry and they had granted her request, allowing her to sit the exams in January.

"Nevertheless," she said, forcing a smile, "I am glad to be back at Hogwarts."

He said nothing as he reached for three rolls of parchment sitting neatly on his desk. "The Ministry requires you to carry out a series of assignments this term, and so, I have outlined each assignment and given you a set of guidelines. They are due at midday on the last day of term and, if they are not on my desk by that time I will not accept them. Is that understood, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor," she said, keeping the annoyance she felt from her voice.

"I also require to see you three times a week; to check on your progress. Some of the assignments are…complex, and I want to ensure that you not wasting your time, or mine."

Hermione felt her stomach knot at the thought of having Snape, of all people, scrutinise her work. "I understand, Professor."

"Then you may take these and go," he said in a dismissive tone.

Taking the scrolls from him, she tucked them safely under her arm.

"Is there something else, Miss Granger?" he said, having noted her still lingering by his desk.

"I saw Draco Malfoy in the guest quarters and I was wondering what…."

You are here, Miss Granger," Snape said irritably, cutting her off. "To complete assignments, not to stick you nose in matters that do not concern you."

Heat crept up Hermione's neck and, at risk of further embarrassment she nodded her understanding, then hurried from his office. Muttering under her breath as she walked back to her room, she was glad that she would not have to rub shoulders with Snape on a daily basis. She had given rise to the hope that his rude and arrogant manner was part of his 'act' to keep his loyalty to Dumbledore a secret – how wrong she had been.

Reaching her room, she set the scrolls on her desk and flopped down onto the bed. Professor McGonagall would be expecting her in her office right about now for tea and biscuits, but she needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts. She closed her eyes, thinking to herself that these were going to be the longest two years of her life.

**~x~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry that it has taken me a while to update. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far...your comments are really encouarging. **

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 3**

**~x~**

Severus Snape leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, wondering why he had taken it upon himself to oversee Hermione Granger's placement at Hogwarts. He had enough to deal with, as well as teaching the N.E.W.T level Defence Against the Dark Arts class – his replacement was young and, in his view, too inexperienced. But in the aftermath of the war and with the reputation that this particular post had, he did not have a huge pool of applicants to choose from. He had, however, finally settled on Augustus Wilderfern, the only candidate who had shown a glimmer of potential.

Waving his hand in a careless manner, he warmed the teapot sitting on his desk and poured himself another cup. Sipping on his tea, he wished now that he had agreed to allow Horace Slughorn to oversee Miss Granger's placement. The Potions professor had expressed a keen interest in taking Potter's Muggle-born friend 'under his wing'. Looking back now, Severus wished he knew what had possessed him to deny Slughorn his request.

"A bright girl Hermione Granger, wouldn't you say, Severus?" Albus Dumbledore said, adjusting his half-moon glasses on his crooked nose.

"A Mudblood! Bright! Ha!"

"Do not use that word in my presence, Phineas," Dumbledore said sternly.

Severus rose abruptly from his chair, glowering at Phineas' portrait. "Nor mine."

"Touched a raw nerve, did I, _Headmaster_?" Phineas Nigellus laughed throatily.

"Severus, do sit down," Dumbledore said calmly. "Pay no attention to Phineas; he's just envious of Miss Granger's superior abilities."

Phineas snorted.

Severus did not sit down but picked up his robe and put it on. "I was just about to leave anyway, Albus," he said. "I have some matters to attend to."

"Draco?" Dumbledore asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Yes, Draco," Severus sighed heavily. "He is becoming more and more restless."

Worry flickered across Dumbledore's bright blue eyes. "You must keep the boy at Hogwarts, Severus."

"You don't think I know that, Albus!" Severus snapped, but quickly composed himself. "I am well aware of what might happen to him if he leaves Hogwarts. Now, if you will excuse me Albus."

Without waiting for Dumbledore to reply Severus turned, his robes billowing behind him as he strode from his office. There were times when he wished he didn't have to share his office with Albus Dumbledore or any other former head of Hogwarts for that matter. He moved silently along the empty corridors, making straight for the guest quarters. Draco was a growing concern, one that was testing his patience to the limits, but Severus had made a promise and he fully intended to keep it.

As he walked his mind drifted to the castle's newest inhabitant, Hermione Granger. The last time he had seen her had been in the Shrieking Shack, moments before he had lost consciousness. She had been standing beside that red-headed twat, Ronald Weasley. Severus, of course, had been aware that at any time he could have become dispensable to the Dark Lord, and so, he had spent months secretly brewing an antivenom for Nagini's bite. As his strength had slowly drained from him he was convinced the potion he had swallowed before meeting with Voldemort had failed him, and therefore had given Harry Potter his memories. No matter how he felt about the boy, or his father, Severus had wanted Potter to know the truth about himself, about Dumbledore…about his love for Lily.

However, Severus had not been destined to die in the Shrieking Shack, and his antivenom had successfully purged his body of every drop of poison. In the hours after Voldemort's defeat, he had been found by Professor McGonagall recovering in the Headmaster's office and, if not for Dumbledore's portrait exclaiming his true loyalties, she would have hexed him into oblivion. The next several weeks had passed in a blur. But with Dumbledore's testimony, as well as the use of Legilimency, Severus had been quickly cleared of all charges. And, to his utter astonishment, he was asked to continue on as headmaster of Hogwarts – a decision that no doubt caused more than one student to groan.

Severus finally reached the guest quarters. As he walked along the narrow corridor he saw light leaking out from beneath Hermione's door. He paused outside her door for a moment, guessing that she had already started into her first assignment. All though her school years he had been grudgingly impressed with her superior abilities, but her regurgitated answers had always greatly irritated him. In her written and practical work she had never veered from what the text books had said. If she had, then perhaps her own potions book would have rivalled that of the Half-Blood Prince's. However, before his thoughts could shift to his own lonely, troubled childhood Severus continued along the corridor to Draco's room.

"Go away!" Draco shouted as Severus knocked on his door.

"It's Severus, Draco," he said softly. "Let me in."

A moment later, the door swung open. "What do you want?" Draco said sharply.

Severus narrowed his eyes. He was in no mood for Draco's sour attitude this evening. "I need to speak with you, Draco."

It was not a request.

"Now is not a good time."

Severus ignored him. He pushed past his godson, but stopped mid-step, staring the half-packed trunk on the floor. "What's going on here?" he said, turning his obsidian eyes on Draco.

"I'm packing, what does it look like?"

Severus folded his arms across his chest. "And you plan on going where exactly?"

"I can't stay here another day." Draco raked a hand through his matted blond hair. "I'm going insane."

For a moment, Severus' inscrutable mask slipped. "You'll only get hurt, Draco."

"I DON'T CARE!

In four steps, Severus had covered the distance between them and grabbed a fistful of Draco's shirt. "You might not give a damn about your life, but I do," Severus spat. "And so do your parents."

"It's their fault I'm stuck here…."

Draco's back hit the wall with a sickening thud. Severus' dark eyes were wild with fury and his face was now mere inches from Draco's. "You ungrateful little brat," he seethed. "Your parents turned themselves over to the Ministry so you wouldn't have to spend the rest of your life running from Aurors. And this is how you honour their sacrifice, by blaming them for keeping you out of Azkaban."

Swallowing hard, Draco lowered his gaze, unable to bear his godfather's incensed glare boring into him. Hot tears filled his eyes, but he refused to cry in front of Severus. The truth was he missed his parents desperately. He was trapped under the weight of his own guilt – he was free while they were imprisoned. They had pleaded with the Wizengamot and had finally convinced them of the truth: Draco had had the Dark Mark forced upon him by Voldemort, as punishment for Lucius' failure.

Five years. They would have to endure five years in Azkaban…for him.

"Why did they do it, Severus?" Draco asked, his voice trembling.

Severus released his grip on him. He remembered clearly Lucius' words to him after his sentencing. His old friend had made him swear to protect Draco from those who would take pleasure in striking down a Malfoy…and from himself.

"Because they love you," Severus said quietly, his anger evaporating.

Draco sniffed, then lifted his gaze to Severus. "What am I suppose to do here?"

"Firstly," Severus said, motioning towards Draco's trunk. "You will unpack. I will speak with Professor Slughorn in the morning. He's been wanting someone to help him restock his new potions lab for sometime now…"

"Sounds bloody fantastic," Draco said dryly.

"Or if you rather," Severus replied, a hint of smirk playing on his lips, "Hagrid has put in a request for an assistant game-keeper."

Draco's eyes widened with horror. "No! No, helping Professor Slughorn will be just fine."

"Good," Severus said. "Now, get some rest, Draco." He turned to leave the room.

"Wait," Draco called after him, then said with a slight sneer, "Was that really Granger I saw earlier?"

"Yes, Draco, it was _Miss_ Granger," Severus said.

Folding his arms and resting his hip against a desk, he asked, "Why is she here?"

"To study. Now, get some rest, Draco," Severus said, then turned and left his room before he could ask any more questions.

**~x~**

The next morning, after having dismissed the students from the Great Hall, Severus spotted Hermione Granger. She was weaving her way towards the front of the cavernous room, but it was not him she was wishing to speak to. He watched her surreptitiously as she spoke with Professor McGonagall. As usual, she had a book tucked under her arm, which by the looks of it had passed though several hands before ever reaching hers.

"Professor Snape," Minerva called, motioning for him to go to her.

"Yes, Minerva?" he asked, only giving Hermione a cursory glance.

"Why hasn't Hermione been given somewhere to study, Severus?" Minerva asked, getting straight to the point.

Severus turned his head, looking down his hooked nose at Hermione, and said condescendingly, "Is there something wrong with the library, Miss Granger?"

"No…it's fine." Hermione said quickly, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She wished now she hadn't said a word to Professor McGonagall. "Really."

"Nonsense," Minerva said, waving her hand. "Isn't there a little room off Professor Slughorn's potions storeroom?"

Severus masked his annoyance. Draco would not be happy, but his godson he could deal with, Minerva McGonagall, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with. And, as far as he knew, there were no other available rooms, unless he was able to find Hermione a spacious broom cupboard.

"Really, Professor," Hermione said, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Snape. "I can work perfectly well from the library."

Minerva, however, would not be swayed. "Professor Slughorn!" she called and charged after the plump professor before he left the Great Hall.

Feeling very awkward, Hermione mumbled that she was sorry to cause such an inconvenience, but as she turned to leave, she collided with a student. Her book fell from where it had been safely tucked under her arm, and while she steadied herself, Snape reached down and picked it up off the stone floor. When she looked up, he was staring at the front cover, his brow knitted in a frown.

"Where did you get this book from?" he demanded.

Hermione wanted to snatch it out of his hands. How dare he even suggest that she had stolen it. "If you must know, Professor, it was a gift from a friend. He said it was one of the last copies still in circulation…so, if you wouldn't mind, Professor, I would like to have it back."

Snape seemed almost reluctant to hand it back to her.

"Who was your friend, Miss Granger?" he asked.

For a moment Hermione thought she saw uncertainty wash over Snape's face, but she quickly dismissed the thought. "You wouldn't know him, Professor, he didn't attend Hogwarts."

"Very well," he said slowly and handed her the book back. "I shall see you later, then, Miss Granger, for our first meeting."

"Thank you, Professor," she said, clutching the book tightly against her chest. It had been a gift from Septimius. She had no idea where he had gotten it from, but she intended never to part with it.

Severus nodded at her curtly, then swept from the Great Hall. He strode towards his office, needing to speak with Dumbledore urgently. He recognised the book that Hermione had; it was from his personal library in Spinner's End. Yet, no one but himself could pass through the charms he had set about his house and, as far as he could remember, he had never given Hermione Granger a book.


	4. Chapter 4

**I've finally gotten around to updating! Thank you to everyone who has left me a review; it's been amazing seeing the response to this story!**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 4**

**~x~**

From his portrait hung above the Headmaster's desk, Albus Dumbledore peered curiously over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "A book, Severus? What kind of book?"

"The title is irrelevant," Severus said impatiently and started to pace the floor in front of his desk. "What matters is how Miss Granger got her hands on it in the first place."

"Didn't you just tell me she said it was given to her as a gift?" Dumbledore said.

Severus stopped pacing. "Yes, but –"

"I highly doubt Hermione Granger would involve herself with an unscrupulous wizard."

"Then how can you explain Miss Granger's possession of a book that I placed on a shelf in Spinner's End myself?" Severus asked sharply.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, then said calmly, "Severus, it is only a book. Do you really want to accuse Miss Granger of theft? If you do, it could have an effect on her future career. I think it would be wise to simply let the whole matter slide."

Severus' insides twisted with frustration. "Let…it…slide?" he said slowly. "Albus, someone was in my house. How can I just let it…slide?"

"Think on it this way, Severus: why would a wizard, powerful enough to dismantle the wards around your house only steal a single book?"

Annoyed with Dumbledore's dismissive attitude, Severus clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying something he might later regret. While he had no intention of accusing Hermione Granger of theft he did, however, want to know who had given her the book.

"That's the point though, isn't it, Albus, someone _did_ breach the wards, "Severus said rather exasperated. "And who's to say they won't be able to dismantle the wards I've personally placed around Hogwarts?"

"I highly doubt that, Severus," Dumbledore said flippantly.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus stared silently at Dumbledore for a moment, then said, "You know something about this, don't you?"

A low, throaty laugh rumbled from Phineas Nigellus' portrait. "Oh, he knows more than just _something_, don't you, Albus?"

Severus' obsidian eyes flickered from Dumbledore to Phineas. "What?"

"Tsk, Tsk, Albus," Phineas said with a mocking smirk. "I thought you would have told Severus of his little adventure by now."

Before Dumbledore or Severus could say a word, however, Phineas made a swift exit from his frame. A thick silence engulfed the Headmaster's study and Severus felt a cold dread churning in the pit of his stomach as, one by one, the other portraits emptied until only Dumbledore remained.

Phineas' words meant nothing to Severus, but the stony expression etched on Dumbledore's face warned him that he knew exactly what the former Slytherin Headmaster had alluded to. "Albus, what is going on?" he demanded.

"Severus," Dumbledore began. He deeply regretted that he had not been honest with Severus before this moment, but his concealment of the truth had been for the greater good. "The reason Miss Granger has your book in her possession is because _you_ gave it to her."

"Me?" Severus scoffed. "What ridiculous nonsense, Albus, I would never give one of my mother's books to the likes of Miss Granger."

"It is the truth, Severus."

Severus glared at Dumbledore. What kind of a simple minded fool did he take him for? "Then tell me, Albus," he said, sneering. "Why is that I have no recollection of giving Miss Granger that book?" He glanced at a clock on the wall and realised that his N.E.W.T class would be lining up in the corridor for their lesson. "I don't know what you and Phineas are playing at, but I don't have time for it. Good day, Albus."

Swiping a pile of parchment rolls from his desk, Severus tucked them under his arm and turned on his heels. He was angry with Dumbledore. Hadn't all his years of faithful service meant anything? It stung that Dumbledore had not taken his concerns seriously; after all, hadn't _he_ carried out all of the old wizard's orders without failure.

"Severus, STOP!"

The authority in Dumbledore's voice forced Severus to halt and, with great reluctance, he turned around to face Dumbledore. "Yes, Albus, what is it?" he said dryly.

Dumbledore, ignoring Severus' derision, levelled his gaze at him. "When you were eighteen, Severus, you experimented with a Time-Turner and successfully sent yourself twenty years into the future."

"_What?_" Severus said, his dark eyes narrowing.

"You spent eight months in the future, where you formed a…a friendship with Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued. "On your return to 1979 you were arrested by two Unspeakables and brought to the Ministry. I intervened on your behalf and convinced the Wizengamot not to send you to Azkaban. Unfortunately, Severus, in order to secure your freedom all the memories of your experiment and the time you spent in the future had to be obliviated."

The parchments tucked under Severus' arm tumbled to the floor. He stared in stunned silence at Dumbledore, trying to process everything that he had just heard.

All of a sudden realisation dawned on him and his hand trembled as he raked it through his black hair. He remembered waking up in a small room in the Ministry with Dumbledore standing over him. His mind had been hazy, confused, but Dumbledore had told him that he'd had the unfortunate luck of being hit by a nasty rogue spell in Knockturn Alley. Severus hadn't even recalled being in Knockturn Alley, but Dumbledore had informed him that the spell had affected his short-term memory. Dumbledore had gone on to inform him that the Unspeakables had brought him to the Ministry for questioning; they had wanted to know if Severus had seen who'd jinxed him.

But…It had all been a lie.

Severus placed a hand on his desk to steady himself. Months of his life had been forcibly obliviated from his memory; months he had apparently spent befriending Hermione Granger. Swallowing hard, Severus needed an answer to the most pressing question in his mind. "Does Miss Granger still retain her memories of me?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips before answering. "That is a complicated matter."

"She either does or she doesn't, Albus, which is it?" Severus snapped.

There was a long silence before Dumbledore spoke again. "On the night you were arrested, Severus, I did something…rather illegal."

Severus arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

"The Unspeakables left me alone with you for few minutes and I made a copy of your memories before obliviating them." Dumbledore paused and sighed heavily. "I regret that I did not tell you of this years ago, but circumstances were never favourable."

"Do you still have the memories?" Severus asked. He was unsure what Dumbledore had meant by 'favourable', but he assumed it had to do with Voldemort. Perhaps he had obtained knowledge of the outcome of the war, knowledge that could have had a detrimental effect on the time-line.

"I do," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore spoke an incantation and, as several bricks in the wall below his portrait moved aside, Severus' heart started to beat faster. A small phial, filled with a glowing silvery substance, sat on a ledge, coated in a thick layer of dust. Clearly Dumbledore had not touched it since he had hidden it there twenty years before.

Moving slowly forward, Severus lifted the phial and turned it over in his hand. A host of conflicting emotions tore through him. Was he really prepared for what he might see? In the end, though, his curiosity was too strong to ignore. It was almost laughable that he had become friends with Hermione Granger, that insufferable know-it-all.

"Forgive me, Severus," he heard Dumbledore say softly, but when he lifted his gaze, the portrait was empty.

Uncertainty crept into his mind but he forced it aside. Voldemort was dead, so whatever he had done or heard would not make a difference to his life now.

After removing the stopper from the phial Severus took out his wand. He glanced briefly to where Dumbledore's old Pensive rested in a cupboard and knew that it was the wiser option. However, viewing his memories in a Pensive was not enough. He needed to experience every touch, sound and smell; he needed to know his innermost thoughts so he could try and understand why he had done something so reckless.

Drawing out the silvery substance with his wand, Severus carefully raised it to his temple and inserted the memories. For a brief moment everything was foggy yet as it cleared, he was overwhelmed by hundreds of images flashing across his mind.

_...He was standing in a park, introducing himself to Hermione as Septimius Parr…_

…_After making up another excuse to see her, he sought out Hermione and spent the day with her. His awkwardness melted away in her presence and her warm smile flushed his pale cheeks pink…_

…_It was a mild spring day and he and Hermione were lying side by side on the freshly mown grass in the park. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached for her hand, but it soared as her fingers curled around his…_

…_.His arm encircled Hermione's waist, drawing her closer to him. Her scent was exhilarating, overwhelming all of his senses. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his mind, he kissed her, relishing the taste of her soft, moist lips on his. _

_...Walking through the park, he stopped and drew her down onto a bench beside him. Nerves knotted his stomach, but he held her cinnamon gaze and said, "I love, Hermione." __Words failed to describe what he felt when Hermione leaned over, kissed him and whispered that she loved him too. _

…_Hermione pretended to huff when he told her that she would have to wait until she came home from work for her surprise. The moment she left her small flat he apparated to Spinner's End. There were wards surrounding the house, but when he reached out a hand it passed through them unharmed. It seemed that his future self had set the wards to recognise his genetic make-up, and his alone. Once in the house, he searched the bookshelves until he found exactly what he was looking for: _The Perfect Brew.

…_He held Hermione close as they lay in bed together; his mind was at war with itself. He wanted to tell her the truth of who he was, but if he did, it could destroy all they had together. Losing Lily had devastated him; losing Hermione would crush him. _

…_Fear coursed through him as he stared into the faces to two Unspeakables. One grabbed his arm roughly and apparated to the Ministry of Magic. _

…_His throat burned with emotion as Dumbledore stood in front of him, his wand pointed at his temple. All he could think about was Hermione and how heartbroken she would be when she discovered he had gone…how she would believe that he had simply abandoned her. _

Severus' hand shook violently as he extracted the memories from his mind and returned them to the phial. He slammed it down onto his desk and stormed from the study, his robes billowing behind him as he strode purposefully along the corridors. Soon, he was standing in the Astronomy Tower, staring out over the grounds surrounding Hogwarts.

He wanted to scream. He understood fully what Dumbledore had meant by 'favourable circumstances'. Had Albus honestly believed he would have abandoned his charge of protecting Potter…for _her_?

Gripping the railings, he squeezed his eyes shut. Even though he had replaced the memories of Hermione back into the phial the damage had been done. She, and all that he had felt for her, was now firmly engrained in his mind. Severus groaned as conflicted emotions raged within him. Hermione Granger was a pain, an insufferable know-it-all: how had he ever fallen in love with her?

Severus' knuckles turned white as clenched his wand tightly in his fist. He pointed it to his temple; he could not live like this. Lily, not Hermione, was his one great love. It was for Lily that he had handed himself over to Dumbledore and wormed his way into Voldemort's inner circle.

Focusing on the thoughts he wished to obliviate, he pressed the tip of his wand harder into his skin.

"Severus?"

Turning round, he saw Minerva standing at the top of the staircase. Concern filled her face, the same concern she reserved for ill or troubled students. It was then Severus realised that he had completely forgotten about his N.E.W.T class. He had never forgotten a class in the twenty years he had been a teacher at Hogwarts. No wonder Minerva seemed worried.

"Severus, what are you doing?" she asked, taking several steps closer to him. "What's wrong?"

Lowering his wand, he replaced it into the folds of his robes. "I'm fine, Minerva," he said, glowering at her.

"So fine that you left you your class standing in the corridor for an hour," she replied sternly. Severus might be Headmaster, but she had known him since he was eleven and was unintimidated by sneers and scowls.

His face deadpan, Severus said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"No, I'm free for the rest of the morning." Minerva moved to stand beside him at the railings. "I told your class that you took ill suddenly and there wasn't time to arrange cover."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

After a long silence, Minerva asked, "Is there something bothering you, Severus?"

Sighing, Severus turned his face towards the Black Forest. There was no point in trying to ward Minerva off. The aged witch had stood her ground against Delores Umbridge, and had driven him from the castle when she still thought he was loyal to Voldemort. "I had words with Albus over a personal matter," he said.

"I see," she said. Minerva had found it difficult to forgive Dumbledore for the way in which he had used Severus. Learning of how he had ordered the younger man to kill him had horrified her. And she was still haunted by the thought that she could have killed Severus, believing that she was riding the world of a murderer.

"Nothing too serious, I hope," she said.

"I will be fine, Minerva." _Once I rid myself of these infernal memories. _

"Why don't you join me in the staffroom for some tea," she said, adjusting the pointed hat on her head. "And you needn't worry; there are no portrait frames in there."

Despite himself, Severus smirked. "A quick cup, then, as I need to see to Draco."

"How is Draco?" Minerva asked as she descended the stairs behind Severus.

"I've assigned him to help Horace re-stock his potions lab. The less time he spends alone in his quarters the better."

"Is he aware that Hermione Granger has returned to Hogwarts?"

At the mention of Hermione's name anger flared inside of him. He hated the feelings for her that had latched onto his mind like a parasite. His one comfort, though, was that she believed she'd had a relationship with someone named Septimius Parr, and not him.

"Yes, they are aware of each other's presence. Don't hold your breath, though, if you're expecting a flourishing friendship," he said as he stepped out into the deserted corridor.

"Always the optimist, Severus," Minerva smiled, then swept past him and walked towards the gargoyle concealing the entrance to the staffroom.

Half an hour later, Severus left the staffroom and made his way down into the dungeons. After he had spoken with Draco he would return to his quarters and finish what he had started before Minerva had interrupted him. He had his first meeting with Hermione that same evening, but he would rather eat a bucket of Flobberworms than see her in his current state.

He slowed his pace as he approached Slughorn's potions lab and, as he drew nearer, he could hear Draco's infuriated voice. No doubt Horace had informed him that Hermione would be using the study off the lab.

Edging closer to the door, he knew he would have to speak with Draco later. Severus would not tolerate anyone addressing a member of his staff with such disrespect. As he barged through the door, however, he froze. It was not Horace Slughorn who was on the receiving end of Draco's barbed tongue, it was Hermione.


	5. Chapter 5

**Another chapter, yay!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. I am sorry that I haven't replied to everyone, but my life is just so crazy. But I so appreaciate all your support with this story!**

**A big thank to SlytherinDragoon for helping me...**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 5**

**~x~**

The shock of confronting Hermione lasted only a brief moment before Severus replaced his inscrutable mask. On the other side of the lab, Draco clamped his mouth shut as he realised who was looming in the doorway and took several stiff steps back from Hermione. A muscle jerked in Severus' jaw and something unfamiliar stirred within him; he had never felt such anger towards Draco. However, he forced it back down into the dark depths from where it had arisen.

"What is going on in here?" Severus demanded, keeping his gaze trained on Draco.

Draco's lip curled back in a sneer. "Granger seems to think that she can waltz around the castle and take up residence wherever she pleases."

"I told you already, Malfoy, I was sent here," Hermione said, incensed.

Glaring contemptuously at her he said, "I wasn't talking to _you_, Granger."

"_Miss_ Granger, Draco, will be sharing this lab with you whether you like it or not," Severus said, exasperated by his godson's childish behaviour.

"Well, you can find something else for me to do. I don't want to share the same room with _her_ kind."

A dark shadow fell over Severus' face and his voice was low, menacing as he said, "You will never speak like that in my presence again. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded, but the disdain he held for Hermione never left his grey eyes.

"It's all right, Professor, I'll find somewhere else to work," Hermione said softly.

Without thinking Severus shifted his gaze from Draco to Hermione, and immediately wished he hadn't. The emotions that exploded in his mind at that moment were almost overpowering. Hermione's lips were taut, her cheeks flushed with humiliation, and it was against his will that he was finally drawn to her cinnamon eyes. He saw in them the same intelligence that had first attracted his younger self to her. However, the warm affection she had clearly held for Septimius was absent, and it was with indifference that she now regarded him.

It felt like a knife was being twisted inside of him. He meant nothing to her. His thoughts, though, were quickly smothered by a grim satisfaction that he did not need to worry about her wanting to renew their attachment.

"No Miss Granger, you will remain here," he said and tore his gaze from her, settling it on Draco again. "If you have a problem with this arrangement, Draco, then you can take up the other post we discussed."

"Fine, she can stay," Draco mumbled. He would rather suffer Hermione's presence than follow that great oaf, Hagrid, into the Black Forest.

Draco snatched up his cloak and stalked out of the potions lab, muttering to himself. Highly aware that he was now alone with Hermione, Severus wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between himself and her as possible. And so, with the intention of making straight for his quarters Severus turned on his heels.

"Professor," Hermione said, stopping Snape in his tracks. "I-I'm sorry, if I had known Draco was down here I would never have come alone."

Drawing in a deep breath, Severus turned round to face her. She seemed so small, vulnerable, and he fought fiercely against the urge to embrace her. He focused instead on all the reasons why he disliked her; how she, Potter, and Weasley had spent six years aggravating him.

"Clearly, Miss Granger," he said wryly. "But then, Gryffindors aren't known for their prudence, are they?"

Hermione stared at Snape in bewilderment. Had she just imagined that he had taken her side over Draco Malfoy's? Nevertheless, she bit her lip, knowing that she could not afford to snap back at him. Her position at the Ministry depended on her successfully completing her placement at Hogwarts and she would not put it past Snape to fail her simply out of spite.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor," she said as politely as she could. "I'm meant to be meeting with Professor McGonagall in her office now."

"Very well," he said, and stepped aside to let her past. "Oh, and Miss Granger, I expect you to be on time for our meeting this evening. I will not tolerate tardiness."

Hermione said nothing, but gave him a curt nod and left.

As the door slammed shut Severus slumped back against one of the workbenches. He raked a hand through his hair as his pulse hammered in his throat. Shame hit him like a sudden punch to the jaw. Hermione had no reason to apologise in the first the place, and instead of reassuring her, he had insulted her.

After a few minutes, Severus collected himself. His new-found feelings for Hermione were tearing him apart; he needed to rid himself of them, and quickly. First, though, he would have to speak with Dumbledore, _and_ Phineas, to ensure that they would not reveal the truth to him a second time. Severus would also make sure to plant false memories so that he would believe he had given Hermione Granger a book.

As he opened the door, however, a silvery cat bounded towards him; it was Minerva's Patronus.

"Severus, come to my office right away, there's been an incident," the cat said in Minerva's soft Scottish brogue.

With that, all thoughts of Hermione were quickly forgotten as he hurried in the direction of Minerva's office.

**~x~**

While waiting outside Snape's study, Hermione felt almost sorry for whoever it was receiving a tongue lashing from the Headmaster. From what she could make out, they had been caught duelling on the third floor by Professor McGonagall. She remembered the numerous times Harry and Ron had faced Snape's fury, and if not for Dumbledore's intervention, they would have been expelled at the beginning of their second year.

All the same, she wasn't looking forward to her meeting with Snape at this exact moment in time. His cutting words from earlier that day still echoed in her mind, and no doubt now she would have to bear the brunt of his foul mood.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the door to the study swung open. A sullen Slytherin, followed by an equally sullen Gryffindor, swept past her and descended the spiral staircase. Hermione wanted to follow suit, but it would not bode well for her if she did. She decided to wait a few minutes before knocking, hoping that the worst of Snape's anger would have dissipated.

Before she could knock, however, the door burst open and Snape almost crashed into her.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said in a small voice as she stepped back from him. "I-I didn't…I mean…."

"Stop babbling, Miss Granger, and explain what you're doing lurking out here!" he said, glaring at her.

For the second time that day, Hermione felt her ire with Snape rise. "I'm here for our meeting, Professor," she said tightly.

Severus clenched his jaw, but before any rational thoughts could take form he said abruptly, "In."

He stepped aside to let her past, then followed her in, slamming the door behind him. Several portraits flinched in their frames, but none of them stirred from their apparent slumber. As he approached his desk he glanced up at the empty frame hanging behind it. Dumbledore still had not returned; a fact that did not bother Severus. Indeed, he would not care if Albus Dumbledore never returned to the Headmaster's study.

Severus waited until Hermione was seated before he lowered himself into his own chair. He riffled through some parchments spread across his desk, not wanting to look at her until it was necessary. As he stared absently at a letter from the Board of Governors he wondered what in Merlin's name he was doing. He should have sent her away; after all, he didn't have to explain himself to her.

"Professor," Hermione said, still annoyed with Snape. "Which premise would you like you read first?"

Lifting his gaze to her, Severus arched an eyebrow. "You have all three written already?"

Hermione's words caught in her throat. For a split second she could have sworn it was Septimius who was sitting across from her and not Snape. Managing not to shudder at such a thought, she forced it completely from her mind, and nodded.

"Yes, Professor, I have."

Severus' curiosity proved too strong for his desire to be rid of Hermione and he held his hand out to her. "Then we shall deal with the assignment on healing potions tonight."

Her stomach knotted slightly as she handed the parchment over to Snape and watched him unroll it. His face was expressionless as he read, but when he began to absently trace a finger tip around his lips Hermione stifled a gasp. Septimius had done exactly the same thing when he was concentrating. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and berated herself for allowing her feelings for Septimius to toy with her mind.

After composing herself, Hermione lifted her gaze to Snape again, just as he finished reading her premise.

"Well, Miss Granger," he said smoothly. "That was certainly…interesting."

"I know it would be a complicated potion to brew, Professor," Hermione said, unsure whether Snape agreed with her innovative idea or not. "And it might take years to perfect, but I believe it will benefit the wizarding world greatly."

Severus levelled his gaze at her. "It is unlike you, Miss Granger, to challenge the experts in any matter."

Hermione bristled somewhat at his condescending tone. She was tempted to snatch the parchment from his hand and leave the study immediately, but that would only give Snape another reason to belittle her. Instead, she met his black eyes and said assertively, "In this case, Professor, I believe the experts have failed to research every possible avenue."

Severus was surprisingly intrigued by her deviation from simply regurgitating published works. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, a voice warned him that he was treading dangerous waters but, he chose to ignore it.

"And you believe that black cohosh and devil's claw are the answer?" he said, sounding indifferent.

"Yes, I do," Hermione said.

"Explain."

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds before she began to explain in avid detail how she intended to carry out her experiment. Against his will a surge of emotions flooded through him and he found his attention arrested by her brilliance. Soon his mind was swamped with memories and he began to understand why his younger self had fallen for her.

"…And so, Professor, using black cohosh and devil's claw as the main ingredients of Skele-Gro would, in theory, ensure that bone re-growth would be almost entirely painless."

Severus was quiet for a long moment before he handed the roll of parchment back to Hermione and said, "I will be interested to see the results of this experiment, Miss Granger."

Somewhat sceptical, Hermione raised an eyebrow as she took the parchment from Snape. "When do you wish to see me next, Professor," she said.

"Thursday evening."

Hermione nodded and quickly gathered up her things. She had never felt so uncomfortable in Snape's presence. All she wanted to do now was to return to her quarters, crawl into bed, and try not to think about her next meeting with the Headmaster. Buckling her satchel, she slung it over her shoulder and hurried towards the door.

"Miss Granger," Snape called, holding up a black leather book. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh, thank you, Professor," she said, feeling her heart beat faster. It was Septimius' journal.

Snape didn't say a word as she took it from his hand, but simply sat down at his desk and focused his attention on several parchments. Clutching the journal tightly in her hand, she walked from the study, and let out a deep sigh as the door closed behind her. As she moved to put the leather book in her satchel, however, horror spread through her. The journal was open.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her mouth trembling. "It's impossible."

Her hands shook as she opened the front cover of the journal, and a wave of nausea swept over her as she saw _Property of Severus Snape_ written in the inside.

Pale faced, with her legs as heavy as lead she somehow managed to walk to her quarters. She slowly sank down onto her bed, feeling numb as she opened the journal. Her eyes widened as she read through Snape's detailed notes on the modifications he had made to a Time-Turner. As she read on, everything started to become clearer to Hermione. Septimius…Snape had always been evasive about his past. She had respected his wishes and had not discussed the war, or asked him about his schooldays at Drumstrang. But now she knew why.

Having read more than enough, Hermione flung the journal across the room. She wanted to scream. Snape had used her. He had needed someone to help him fix his Time-Turner and she had been foolish enough to believe his craftily woven lies.

Hot angry tears burned her eyes as she stumbled across the room to her desk. She couldn't remain at Hogwarts and she certainly never wanted to see Severus Snape again. Placing a fresh sheet of parchment in front of her, she dipped a quill into an inkpot and started to write.

_Professor Snape, _

_Due to unforeseen personal circumstances, I am writing to inform you that I will no longer be able to continue with my placement at Hogwarts. I am aware of the inconvenience that this will cause and I must apologise for it. I would appreciate it if you did not make my departure known until I have left the castle. _

_Hermione Granger. _

An hour later, Hermione sighed as she knew she would have to see Snape one more time before she left Hogwarts. She tucked the letter into her robes and started the long walk back to the Headmaster's study. Several Prefects passed in the corridors and Hermione recognised them as having been several years below her. She forced a smile and continued on.

Finally, and for the second time that evening, she stood outside Snape's study. Knocking on the door, she waited for permission to enter. Nothing. She rapped again, louder this time, and still there was no answer. Deciding to simply leave the letter on his desk, she opened the polished door and entered.

"Ah, Miss Granger, back so soon?"

Hermione flinched at Phineas' drawling voice.

"I'm here to leave a letter for Professor Snape," she said in a clipped tone.

Phineas laughed throatily. "Leaving letters for the dear Professor already? My, my you don't waste a moment, do you?"

"What?" she said angrily.

"Oh dear," Phineas said. "I've gone and said too much."

Hermione took a step closer to his portrait. "Professor, you know about…Professor Snape's time-travelling, don't you?"

Phineas lifted a book from a small round table, and flicked through it. "I might know something," he said, licking his thumb and turned another page with it.

Heart drumming in her chest, Hermione asked, "Does Professor Snape remember any of it?"

With an audible snap, Phineas closed the book and fixed his gaze squarely on Hermione. "No, Miss Granger, he doesn't remember anything. Dumbledore had his memory obliviated…it was either that, or life imprisonment in Azkaban."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione whispered.

She needed to get out of this room. Crumpling the letter in her hand, she shoved it back inside her robes and fled from the study.

"Phineas! Really!" Dilys Derwent chided from her portrait. "How could you lie to that poor girl?"

Smirking as he ran his fore finger and thumb across his thin moustache he said, "Trust me, Dilys, this will be the most entertainment you've had in decades."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**~x~**

Hermione's chest heaved as she burst into her quarters and slammed the door behind her. Sagging against the door, she slid down it onto the cold stone floor. Drawing her knees up, she wrapped her arms tightly around them, and fought the tears brimming in her eyes. Her mind was a raging storm of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Shouldn't she be relieved, happy even, that Snape's memories of their relationship had been obliviated? Why then had Phineas' word left a gaping hole inside of her?

Soon the cold began to seep through her body and she reluctantly climbed to her feet. From the corner of her eye she saw Septimius'…Snape's journal lying on the floor, and stooping down, she picked it up. She flicked through the pages detailing his experiment, but stopped abruptly when she saw her own name written down. Eyes wide, she read page after page of his most intimate thoughts and feelings…about her. Tears glistened on her cheeks and before her legs buckled beneath her, she sank down heavily onto the bed.

Turning over another page, her heart constricted at the date: it was the day before he disappeared. Swallowing hard, she dared to read his last entry.

_I have kept the truth from Hermione too long. She's unlike anyone I've ever met before and I don't think I'll ever understand why she loves me, which is why I can't and won't keep lying to her. _

_I intend to make a quick trip to 1978 tomorrow and retrieve several items from my flat, and when I return, I'll tell Hermione everything. I know it could destroy what we have together, but I love her, and can only hope she'll be able to forgive me. _

Hermione let the journal fall carelessly to the floor as she buried her face in her hands. Septimius _had _really loved her. Suddenly Phineas' words resounded in her mind: _Dumbledore had his memory obliviated…it was either that, or life imprisonment in Azkaban._ It finally made sense to her why he had simply vanished: he had been caught, and his memories forcibly obliviated. She felt lifeless, as all at once she was faced with the harsh reality that the man she loved no longer existed.

Reaching into her robes, she took out a small diary that she always carried with her. She opened it and she smiled down ruefully at a picture of Septimius. Taking in his black hair, hooked nose, thin lips and pale skin, she wondered why she had never made the connection with Snape before now. Perhaps it was because she would never have believed that Severus Snape would meddle with time, or that he could love so wholeheartedly and with such passion. Her throat tightened and burned as she lightly traced her fingers tips over the photograph. However, _he _was not the Snape she had known as a schoolgirl, or indeed now as an apprentice. Septimius had never sneered at her for her enthusiasm and curiosity, and he had certainly never belittled her.

The longer she stared at the photograph the more oppressive her grief became. It was a cruel irony, but she would give anything to have _this _Severus Snape back in her life. Finally, she forced herself to put the photograph away and lay down on her bed. Her head was heavy and her body weary, but she could not silence the cacophony of voices in her mind.

Turning her head, she let her gaze linger on her packed trunk for a long moment. She had every intention of returning to her flat in London this evening, but now she was not so sure. Fishing the crumpled letter addressed to Snape from her robes, she turned it over in her hands several times. If she left Hogwarts she would be forced to give up her post at the Ministry, something which she knew she would end up regretting. Sighing deeply, Hermione tore the letter up and tossed the pieces into a rubbish bin. She could do this; she could complete her placement at Hogwarts. After all, Snape only knew her as an insufferable know-it-all.

**~x~**

From his seat at the Staff table, Severus silently swept his gaze across the Great Hall. He finally spied who he was looking for and his dark eyes lingered on her for a long moment. _She _was the reason behind his frustration this morning. Hermione was sitting by herself at the far end of the Gryffindor table, yet the awed stares of several students did not escape his notice. However, with her nose stuck firmly in a book she appeared oblivious to the attention. Returning his focus to his plate, Severus speared a piece of sausage with his fork. He wasn't particularly hungry, but Minerva would notice if he didn't eat and would only hound him with another barrage of questions.

After his meeting with Hermione last night, he had finally been able to return to his quarters unhindered. Yet, as he had pressed the tip of his wand into his temple, he had been incapable of summoning the strength to obliviate himself. Perturbed, and unable to find solace in his usual evening routine, he had left his quarters and spent hours brooding in the Astronomy Tower. As the first golden rays had filled the horizon in a hue of red and orange, Severus had tried once more to obliviate himself, but it had proved to be just as futile as his previous attempt.

"Severus," Minerva whispered, snapping him from his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, then added at Minerva's arched eyebrow, "Honestly."

Minerva nodded, though Severus could tell that she was unconvinced with his answer. He mentally berated himself for lowering his guard, but the reality of it was that she was the only living soul who knew him well enough to see through his enigmatic exterior.

_Hermione knows you…_

The thought formed so quickly that it took all of his strength not to react to it. However, Severus quickly caged it and sneered inwardly at how ridiculous it was – Hermione Granger did _not_ know him.

"It's rather odd seeing Hermione without Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, isn't it?" Minerva mused, completely oblivious to her colleague's roiling thoughts regarding the brilliant, young witch.

Severus' lips grew taut and he refused to follow Minerva's gaze to where Hermione still sat engrossed in her book. Instead, he asked curtly, "Have you spoken with Augustus this morning?"

After dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin she said, "Yes, I did. He said he will have his scheme of work for this term's Defence classes on your desk by this afternoon."

"Good."

"Oh, and I almost forgot." Minerva paused to pour herself a cup of tea, ignoring Severus' impatient scowl. "He wants to know if you will allow Hermione some time out from her studying to assist him with a project he is working on."

Unconsciously, Severus tightened his grip on his fork. "What kind of project?" he asked sounding indifferent.

"It's something to do with counter-curses I believe," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "Though, I warned Augustus that if you agreed to allow Hermione to help him he is not to overtax her."

"I will speak with Miss Granger at our next meeting on Thursday," he said. "Although, I believe you are right, it will be too overtaxing her for to assist Augustus."

"Severus, I never said…" Minerva started, but he rose sharply to his feet before she could finish.

Silence descended on the Great Hall as Severus stepped up to the lectern on the podium to give his morning address to the students. As his low, silky voice carried across the cavernous room, Hermione found it nearly impossible to concentrate on her book. Snape's voice was deeper, richer than Septimius', but his inflections and the stress he placed on certain words wrenched her heart. She had known this would happen; that similarities between the 'two Snapes' would surface, but she closed her eyes and reminded herself that this was not _her _Severus.

As soon as Snape finished his morning address, Hermione shoved her book into her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. She hurried out of the Great Hall and walked briskly towards Professor Slughorn's potions store. Forcing all thoughts of Snape from her mind, she concentrated instead on her how she was going to make it through the rest of the day without hexing Draco Malfoy.

As she stopped outside the store, with its door ajar, she could hear the clinking of glass and the shuffling of feet. Draco was already inside. She was tempted to simply find a quiet corner in the library to knuckle down in, but after yesterday's events with Snape she was not sure it would be the wisest course of action. It wasn't that she felt threatened by Draco; she just didn't want the added stress of having to deal with a narrow-minded git.

After a moment, Hermione took a deep breath and braced herself as she entered the storeroom.

Draco turned his head as the door creaked on its hinges, then said snidely, "So, I'm to suffer your presence today, then, am I?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said, and headed straight for the small study, leaving Draco muttering sourly under his breath.

An hour later, Hermione began to feel the strain of sitting hunched over a desk in her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair and stretched. She was tempted by the thought of a cup of tea, but she was determined to have her methodology written by Thursday. The sooner she completed it, the sooner she could start on her practical work, and she was itching to get into the lab.

"BOLLOCKS!"

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin at Draco's roar. Rising from her chair, she hurried from the study and gasped at the sight of blood flowing freely from a deep slice in his hand.

"Are you ok?" she said, her eyes flitting from his hand to the shards of broken glass on the floor.

"Do I look bloody ok to you?"

Removing her wand from her robe, Hermione walked towards Draco. "Let me see your hand," she said.

"You're not pointing _that _thinganywhere near me," Draco snapped.

Hermione tucked her wand back into her robes. "Fine, bleed to death for all I care."

She turned away from Draco and walked towards the main entrance of the storeroom.

"Where are you going?" he called after her with a slight trace of panic in his voice.

"I need some air and a cup of tea."

"What? No wait, come back."

Hermione halted mid-step and spun round on her heels. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Malfoy," she said, unable to help herself. "But are you asking for _my_ help?"

Draco clenched his jaw. "Just bloody do something, all right; send for Madam Pomfrey, Snape, anyone…I don't care."

At the mention of Snape's name Hermione was gripped with nervous tension. He was the last person she wanted in the same room as her right now. And besides, there wasn't time to send for anyone...if his dramatics after being scratched by Buckbeak in third year was anything to go by.

She removed her wand again and closed the gap between her and Draco. "Give me your hand," she said firmly.

Draco backed away from her. "No…"

"Stop being such a pillock for one minute, will you," she said exasperated with him. "I'm trying to help you."

Slowly Draco extended his bleeding hand towards Hermione. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asked.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "No, I have no idea whatsoever," she said dryly.

Draco's grey eyes flashed with indignation, but he said nothing. He flinched slightly as she exammined the wound and then hissed through gritted teeth when she waved her wand over it. Several small fragments of glass flew out from the cut, but with a flick of her wrist, they fell harmlessly to the floor.

A few minutes later, Hermione stepped back from Draco with a satisfied expression on her face. "It will be sore for a few days," she said, "But you should go and see Madam Pomfrey, she might be able to give you something to speed up the healing process."

Flexing his fingers slightly, Draco stared down at the bandage wrapped around his palm. He couldn't quite understand it: why had Hermione helped him? Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he felt a twinge of shame as he knew he would not have done the same for her.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Well, we'd better get this place cleaned up before Slughorn sees it," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"We?" he said, taken aback.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, and smirked. "You've mastered using your wand with your left hand as well as right? I'm impressed, Malfoy."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked cagily. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you," she replied quietly.

Without another word, she turned away from Draco and set about clearing up the mess. Hermione had always seen Draco as an arrogant git; a carbon copy of his father, Lucius. But his wary reaction just now made her wonder if anyone apart from his parents had ever done anything for him without expecting something in return.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, breaking the thick silence between them.

Draco set two phials on a shelf with his good hand, and stared at her for a long moment, as if he was still unconvinced of her motives. "Too long," he said finally.

Hermione's brow rose sharply. "Is Snape forcing you to stay?" she said, recalling Snape's overbearing manner with Draco yesterday.

Something akin to pain flickered across Draco's eyes. "Snape's my godfather. My father made him promise to keep me here…until…"

Draco's voice faded, but Hermione knew what he meant: _until they're released from Azkaban. _He turned his back on her and she took it as a sign that he didn't want to talk anymore. Even still, she was more than shocked that she'd had a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy.

As she retreated back into the study Draco's last words resounded through her mind. It wouldn't take legilimency to figure out why Lucius Malfoy had wanted his son to live at Hogwarts. Next to Gringotts, it was the safest place in the wizarding world.

And Snape, he was protecting Draco.

Sometime later, Hermione heard muffled voices in the storeroom and assumed it was Professor Slughorn. She hadn't spoken with her old Potions professor properly since she had arrived, and so, she decided to take a break from her work for a short while. As she opened the door, however, she quickly realised that the tall, dark form talking with Draco was not Professor Slughorn.

She wanted to retreat back into the study, but it was too late, they had seen her.

"Good afternoon, Professor," she said, ignoring the tightening knot in her stomach.

"Miss Granger," he said.

Hermione met his dark gaze and immediately wished she hadn't. He looked at her with the same penetrating gaze as Septimius had, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Tearing her gaze away from her, she swallowed hard, wondering what in Merlin's name was wrong with her.

"How's your hand, Draco?" she asked in an attempt to draw Snape's attention away from her.

Severus frowned. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I dropped a jar and sliced my hand open," Draco said, holding up his bandaged palm.

"Did you go and see Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, Granger healed it for me."

"Let me see it."

Severus uncrossed his arms as Draco removed the bandage and he then took his hand to examine it. The cut had been deep, but as he inspected it closely, it was clear to him that it would heal without leaving a scar. Feelings that he had tried so hard to suppress suddenly came rushing to the surface, as he was once more confronted with Hermione's competence. Not only that, she had set aside her turbulent history with Draco, and healed him.

"I told Draco that he should let Madam Pomfrey exammine his hand," Hermione said.

Letting go of Draco's hand, Severus turned towards her. "I don't believe it will be necessary," he said smoothly. "As long as he is careful, Draco's hand should heal without any further problems."

Hermione made a helpless gesture, then said, "All right, then, I…uh…should probably be getting back to my work."

Before Snape or Draco could say a word, Hermione hurried back into the study and closed the door. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself.

"It's Snape," she whispered, choking back a sob. "He's not him...he's not him."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to everyone who is following this story! Your support has been amazing!**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 7**

**~x~**

"Don't you ever stop working, Granger?" Draco said as he popped a chip smothered in ketchup into his mouth.

On the other side of the storeroom Hermione lifted her gaze from her book, and shot Draco a half-hearted glare. In the weeks since she had healed his hand, the gelidity that had existed between them for years had slowly begun to thaw. Their conversations, though, were often superficial, with both of them as reluctant as the other to make mention of the war. Also, Hermione could sense that Draco was still wary of her, as if he was waiting for her to exact some kind of payment from him.

"I'm not working, Malfoy," she said, placing a finger on the last line she had read before being interrupted. "Surprised as you may be, some people happen to like reading for enjoyment."

"I read, Granger," Draco sniffed. "Only I don't read books that even Professor Binns would have trouble concentrating on."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, then said evenly, "It's a fascinating read actually. In the last decade researchers have discovered hundreds of new species of plants and herbs in various countries all over the world. The list of potions they can be used in is almost endless, and…"

Sighing loudly, Draco said, "Please, Granger, spare me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Malfoy, if my books don't include someone riding on a broom and chasing after a Snitch," she said dryly, referring to the Quidditch magazines he spent his tea breaks reading.

Draco chose to ignore her jibe. He stabbed another chip with his fork, then asked, "What have you got against Quidditch any way?"

"Nothing, I just don't see what all the fuss is about; it _is_ only a game after all," she said pointedly, and took a sip of her tea. "And it's certainly not something worth shedding tears over. I mean, if those students who play Quidditch put half as much effort into their studies, then they'd sail right through their O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's.

Draco snorted. "You sound just like him."

"Who?"

"Snape."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she almost choked on a mouthful of tea.

"Don't look so horrified, Granger," Draco said with a smirk. "It could be worse; I could have said you sounded like Trelawney."

Flustered, Hermione quickly returned her attention back to her book. Sneaking a glance at Draco, she saw him wipe his mouth with a napkin, then slide off his stool. She silently prayed that he would not see the heat rapidly spreading across her cheeks. Why did he have to make such an absurd statement? She was nothing like Snape. Aside from his obvious intelligence, he was cold, arrogant, and down right rude.

_He's more like Septimius than you think, _a still small voice whispered.

"He is not," she muttered angrily.

"What's that, Granger?" Draco said as he waved his wand to clear away his dirty dishes.

Hermione could have kicked herself, but she answered calmly, "It's just something the author has written that I don't agree with.

Draco rolled his eyes as he tucked his wand away, mumbling something under his breath. More than relieved, Hermione was about to settle herself back into a comfortable position when she noticed the time. _Bollocks_. She was going to be late for her meeting with Snape. He hated being made to wait, and she was not in the mood for a lecture on the importance of time-keeping this evening.

She wished she still didn't have to meet with Snape three times a week. However, there was no way of escaping their meetings, unless that is, she was prepared to tell him the truth concerning his past. And that, was something she would never do.

"I'll see you later, Malfoy," she said, slinging her satchel over her shoulder.

"Meeting with Snape?"

"How'd you guess?"

"The enthusiasm is rolling off you in waves."

Hermione smiled despite her disquieting thoughts. "Thanks for the support, Malfoy."

"Any time," he said, then turned back to his work.

A few moments later, Hermione stepped out into a dimly lit corridor. Picking up her pace, she glanced down at her watch: she would make it, barely. Her footsteps echoed off the stone floor, and as she rounded a corner she was confronted with several looming figures.

"_Stupefy_!"

A jet of red light hit her squarely on her chest. Hermione, rendered unconscious, crashed to the floor and smacked her face off it. Dark, angry bruises quickly marred her skin, and blood trickled from her split lip. She lay motionless, completely oblivious to the three boys now standing over her.

"Bloody hell!" one gasped. "That's not Malfoy."

"You moron, I told you to wait until we could see who it was," another said angrily.

"I thought it was him. He's the only one who lurks down here at night," the third said, attempting to defend his actions.

"For Merlin's sake, now what are we going to do?"

"Nothing. We're going to go back to the dorm and pretend nothing happened."

"We can't just leave her lying there."

"Fine, you can pick her up and take her to Madam Pomfrey, and then _you_ can explain to Snape what happened."

"OK, OK, fine, we'll leave her here. But what happens when Snape starts asking questions?"

"We deny everything. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes,"

"And don't worry we'll get Malfoy next time. All right, let's go before someone catches us."

**~x~**

Hermione's head exploded with pain as she cracked open her eyes. She moaned as she attempted to push herself up into a sitting position. After a minute, and with her back against a wall, she gingerly reached up to touch her face. Sucking in a sharp breath, she blinked back hot tears, both furious and frightened that someone had attacked her.

Finally, strength returned to her legs. Clambering to her feet, she stumbled back towards the potions storeroom.

"Merlin, Granger," Draco said, jumping off his stool as Hermione entered the room. "What happened to you?"

"Some arse hit me with a stunner," she said, slumping down onto a chair.

A muscle jerked in Draco's jaw. "What? Who was it?"

"I don't know; I didn't see them."

"Come on," Draco said moving towards her. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione drew back from him, then said, "But my meeting with Snape –"

"Granger, your face is rougher than a badger's arse, I think he'll understand," Draco said, taking her arm and drawing her up onto her feet.

"All right, but can you go and tell him what's happened once we get to the infirmary," she said, wincing with pain.

Draco sighed in slight exasperation. "Fine, but if you don't stop talking and walk, we'll never get out of this room."

Hermione was thankful that it was past curfew as they walked along the corridors to the infirmary. Draco said little, though her mind was too preoccupied with trying to piece together what happened to make small talk. She distinctly remembered seeing several figures lurking in the shadows, but what where they doing in the dungeons? Had they been waiting for her? Hermione glanced at Draco. Or had they mistaken her for someone else?

Once they reached the infirmary, Draco removed his wand. "_Expecto Patronum_," he said loudly, and a silvery white tiger landed majestically on all fours, before bounding along a corridor.

Draco then followed Hermione into the infirmary. None of the beds were occupied, for which she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was for nasty rumours to be spread around the school, especially ones that pinned the blame for her bruised face on Draco.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Draco called.

A few moments later, Poppy Pomfrey emerged from her small office. "Mr Malfoy, what seems to be the…" Her voice trailed away as Draco moved to one side. "Miss Granger," she gasped, "what in Merlin's name happened to you?"

"It seems I was on the receiving end of a prank," she said angrily. "I fell and hit my face off the floor."

"Come, lie down." Poppy motioned towards the nearest bed. "I'll be back in moment with some dittany, and balsam fir to numb the pain."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Closing her eyes, Hermione hoped that Madam Pomfrey would also be able to give her something to help the bruises to fade quickly. She was by no means vain, but simply being Harry's best friend already drew more than enough unwanted attention to her.

"Draco, what's going on here?"

_Oh no, please, anyone but him._

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Snape striding into the infirmary, his robes billowing behind him. She knew the moment he saw her battered face. He stopped abruptly, as if his path had been blocked by an unseen force. At that moment, she wished she the mattress would open up and swallow her whole.

"Miss Granger," Severus said. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I-I was…It was…" she began, stumbling over her words. She had been expecting Snape to demand an explanation; instead, his voice was filled with genuine concern.

"She was hit with a stunner by one of the students in the dungeons," Draco said, stepping up to Severus' side.

Anger swelled inside of Severus. "What?"

"I don't know who it was, Professor," Hermione said softly. "Their faces were hidden by the shadows."

As Severus stared at her bruised face, convictions that had been wavering for weeks now seemed to be crumbling down around him. Rage, mingled with a growing need to protect her, coursed through him. Slowly, hesitantly, he walked towards the bed she was lying on, fighting the urge to comfort her with each step he took.

He removed his wand from inside his robes, then said, "May I examine your face?"

"Madam Pomfrey is already seeing to me, Professor," she said, but refused to meet his gaze.

Unseen by Hermione, Severus grimaced slightly at her indifferent tone.

With a slight movement of his hand, Severus summoned a chair to Hermione's bedside. He sat down, then said smoothly, "Miss Granger, I need you to try and remember as much as you can about what happened."

Hermione was once more taken aback by Snape's concern for her. She would have known how to deal with him had he been his usual brash self, but right now, she felt like a landed fish.

"I saw two maybe three students," she said. "I think they were all boys, but I can't be sure. I've been hit with stunners before, Professor, and I've never awakened on my on accord; so I'm assuming whoever cast it isn't very skilled at the spell."

Severus remained silent for a long moment before answering. "I believe you might be right, Miss Granger. I will speak with Professor Wilderfern; perhaps he might be able to shed some light on which students have shown appalling low skill in Defence."

Hermione blinked in astonishment. Her words caught in her throat, but she finally managed to spit them out. "Thank you, Professor. I would hate for whoever it was to harm any one else."

"Ah, Severus," Poppy said, re-emerging from her storeroom. "I'm glad you're here."

Rising from his chair, Severus turned round to face Poppy. "How can I be of assistance?" he asked coolly.

Poppy set two phials down on a table beside Hermione's bed. "I am sure Miss Granger would benefit greatly from your _Infigio _potion," she said.

"_Infigio_?" Hermione said, sitting up a little straighter in the bed.

Severus saw a familiar curiosity in her velvety brown eyes, though, surprisingly, it did not irritate him. On the contrary, he found it rather appealing.

"I developed it some years ago," he said, "it speeds up the healing time of minor injuries."

"And is it plant or animal based?" she asked with enthusiasm.

"Plant."

"Was it a process of elimination, then?" Hermione continued, "Because I have read several books…."

"Miss Granger," Poppy interrupted. "As fascinating as this discussion between you and Severus is, your wounds need tending to."

Hermione's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

Severus almost smirked. Almost.

"And you, Severus," Poppy turned to the Headmaster. "Make yourself useful and bring me a phial of _Infigio_."

Hermione saw Severus scowl at Madam Pomfrey, and she snapped her eyes away from him quickly. How many times had Septimius scowled at her like that? At first she had thought he was continually displeased with her, but she had soon discovered that, for the most part, he wasn't aware he was scowling.

"Of course, Poppy," he said, then turned to Hermione. "I shall speak with you again later, Miss Granger."

As he swept from the infirmary, Hermione's gaze followed him, and something familiar, yet wholly unwanted stirred within her.

**A/N: Infigio is Latin for "fix". **


	8. Chapter 8

**Firstly, I have to apologise that it has taken me so long to get another chapter posted...And I want to thank everyone for their reviews, and for everyone who has put this story on alert or added it to their favourites...**

**Also, a big thanks to SlytherinDragoon.**

**Chapter 8**

**~x~**

Hermione grimaced as she swallowed a phial of Snape's _Infigio_ potion. It was vile tasting stuff, though thankfully it was not quite as bad as polyjuice potion. Draining the last drop, she set the empty phial on a shelf in her bathroom, then reached for her toothbrush. Despite the fact that there were various charms to clean teeth, she had always preferred the 'Muggle way'. Staring at herself in the mirror, she was amazed at how her bruises had faded to faint shadows in just three days. Snape's potion was truly a stroke of brilliance.

_Snape…_

At the thought of the Headmaster Hermione paused, with a tube of toothpaste poised over her brush. This wasn't the first time over the past few days that he had wandered so freely into her mind, and it disturbed her. Squeezing a small blob of Colgate onto her toothbrush, she once again mulled over his civility towards her in the infirmary. His genuine concern still baffled her, for when had he ever had any regard for her? Yet, despite her confusion, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he _was_ more like his younger self than she cared to admit.

Shocked by her own thoughts, Hermione mumbled, "I must have hit my head harder than I thought."

After finishing in the bathroom, Hermione returned to the bedroom. She quickly dressed and crossed over to her desk to gather up some books. Sorting through a large pile, she paused when she saw Snape's journal tucked in amongst them. She hadn't looked at it in weeks, not since she had discovered the truth of who he really was. As she stared at it, though, some part of her warned that she would only torment herself by reading it again.

Sighing deeply, Hermione turned away from the journal and dumped the books in her arms onto the bed. She had thought that finding a way to open the journal would have given her some kind of closure; it hadn't. It had only complicated everything. She still loved _her _Severus wholeheartedly, and seeing glimpses of him in Snape only made her ache for him.

Dejected, Hermione shoved several books into her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. After checking that her wand was within easy reach, she left her quarters. For the past three mornings, she had deliberately decided to linger in her quarters before going to the Great Hall for breakfast. Snape always left right after his morning address, and until their next meeting, she wanted to avoid him.

"Hey Granger, wait up."

Slowing her pace, she turned and saw Draco striding towards her. It still seemed so odd, and rather ironic that he was the closest thing she had to a friend right now. However, as he fell into step with him she reminded herself that he was Snape's godson, and that she would have to be somewhat guarded in what she said to him.

"Late for breakfast…again," he said casually.

Hermione arched an eyebrow slightly. "Spying on me now, are you?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess I didn't believe you would actually heed Madam Pomfrey, and rest." He glanced down at her, staring at her face for a brief moment. "It seems Snape's potion has done its job, though."

The faint fluttering in her stomach caught Hermione off guard, and heat began to creep up her neck, threatening to spread across her cheeks. However, she managed to regain her composure. Quietly, she berated herself. Draco had only mentioned Snape's name, for Merlin's sake. What was she, a Hufflepuff?

"Yes, it has," she said.

Much to her relief, Draco simply nodded and said nothing more on the matter. Glancing up at him briefly, however, she wondered if he had sensed that something wasn't quite right with her. Soon they reached the bottom of the guest quarter stairs, and stepped out onto a main corridor. Hermione began walking in the direction of the Great Hall, but quickly realised that Draco was following her.

Turning, she called, "Aren't you coming?"

"In case you haven't noticed already, Granger, I don't take my meals in the Great Hall," Draco said rather dryly.

"Oh, right, sorry," she said lamely, annoyed at herself.

Of course Draco never took his meals in the Great Hall. He rarely went anywhere else in the castle apart from his quarters and the dungeons. And after what happened to her three nights ago, she did not blame him for wanting to stay clear off the students.

"Don't look so worried, Granger," Draco said with a half smile. "I'll see you later."

Hermione watched him walk along the corridor until he disappeared round a corner. For a short moment she stood rooted to the spot, marvelling at the change in Draco over the last few weeks. The growling of her stomach, though, snapped her from her thoughts, and she continued on towards the Great Hall.

There were still a fair few students lingering at their breakfast as she entered the cavernous room, mostly those, who, like Ron, had little enthusiasm for studying. Her eyes flickered towards the Staff table, and she was relieved to see that Snape's usual seat was vacant. Feeling a little more at ease, Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, then proceeded to reach for a slice of toast and some bacon. A loud chorus of laughter suddenly split the air, and turning her head towards the Ravenclaw table her eyes caught a tall, dark figure standing by the Staff entrance. It was Snape. Her breakfast was forgotten as she panicked, hoping she could leave without him noticing her. At that moment, though, Charlotte Dewhurst, professor of Muggle Studies, ended her conversation with Snape, smiling at him as she left. Hermione's eyes narrowed as Snape followed Dewhurst with his gaze, but just as quickly they widened with horror. What in Merlin's name was wrong with her?

Snape must have sensed someone watching him, for he turned around and locked his gaze onto hers. Hermione quickly snapped her eyes away, not understanding why her heart was flapping in her chest. It was _Snape_. She wanted to gather up her things and leave the Great Hall, but decided against it. Slowly, her heart rate settled, as did the cacophony of thoughts. Staring down absently at her untouched breakfast, she began to realise how immature she had been these past three days. Avoiding Snape was not going to solve anything; in fact, it would only serve to create more problems. For one thing, it would mean distancing herself from Draco, and that, was not something she was prepared to do. He was Snape's godson, and it was inevitable that she would end up being in the same room as the Headmaster.

Finishing up her breakfast, Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw that Snape was gone. She followed the last few students out of the hall and made her way towards the dungeons. As she walked, she became lost in her own thoughts, mentally going over all that needed to be done before the end of the week. Her mind also turned to the news she'd heard of a new bookshop that had recently opened in Hogsmeade. If she could get through enough work today, she would take a trip into the village to see what she could spend her galleons on.

As she descended the stairs down into the dungeons, Hermione removed her wand from its holder. She held it tightly in her right hand, all the while keeping watch for anything that moved in the shadows. The little buggers who had stunned her were still roaming free about the castle, and she did not want a repeat of three nights ago.

"You didn't take long," Draco said from behind his Quidditch magazine as she walked in.

Placing her satchel onto a workbench across from Draco, she hopped up onto a stool. "I wasn't hungry," she replied.

Draco peaked round the side of his magazine, watching Hermione as she meticulously set books and parchments in front of her. Something was bothering her. He was certain, though, that it was not related to her attack. She had faced worse – far worse. A stunner was nothing compared to what Bellatrix had put her through. Of course, he did have his suspicions, but he would have to watch her closely before even thinking of confronting her on the matter.

"I'm taking a trip into Hogsmeade later," Hermione said, unscrewing the lid on an ink pot. "You're welcome to come along if you want."

"And wait around while you scour bookshelves for hours," he said, with his nose still buried in his magazine. "I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself," Hermione mumbled.

After unrolling a piece of parchment, she dipped her quill into an ink pot and started to write. After a few minutes, however, her usually focused mind began to drift. Confronted with images of Snape conversing with Professor Dewhurst, Hermione pressed her lips tightly together. She tapped her quill on the workbench in irritation, annoyed that Snape's lingering gaze after Charlotte Dewhurst was bothering her so much.

**~x~**

The last shreds of light were rapidly fading when Severus finally concluded his business with Aberforth Dumbledore in the Hog's Head. After the war, he had continued to rely on Albus' younger brother as his eyes and ears outside of Hogwarts. Voldemort was dead and his followers decimated, but the dark underbelly of the wizarding world was still very much alive.

Leaving the Hog's Head behind, he hurried along High Street, hoping that the small apothecary in the village was still open. It was. A bell above the door jingled as he entered, and as he suspected he was the last costumer of the evening. He had received an owl earlier that day, informing him that his order was ready for collection.

"Ah, Professor Snape. It's a fine evening, is it not," Felix Berrycloth said, emerging from his pokey office behind the counter.

"Mr Berrycloth." Snape nodded. "I believe you have a parcel for me," he said, getting straight to the point.

Accustomed to Severus' direct manner, Felix smiled then riffled through a stack of parcels wrapped in brown paper. "Yes, here it is." He looked at the tag attached to it. "Aconite, shrivelfig, spleenwart, and mandrake root, was that everything, Professor Snape?"

"No, I had also ordered Devil's berries," Snape said.

Felix ran an index finger down a page of a large record book sitting on the counter. "I must apologise, Professor. It seems my newest apprentice did not bother to double check your order before putting it together. I'll fetch you the berries now."

Severus crossed his arms over his chest as Felix walked out from behind the counter, crossed the shop floor and disappeared through another door. At that moment, the bell above the front door jingled. Turning round to see who it was, his lip twitched in the barest hint of a smile.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said silkily.

"Professor Snape," she replied.

Her voice was calm and her posture collected, but her brown eyes were tinted with uncertainty. Severus noted that her fingers remained curled around the door handle, and it stung that she still seemed so tense in his presence. He could hardly blame her, though, could he? However, her growing friendship with Draco had given him cause to hope that he, too, could redeem himself in her eyes.

"Here we are, Professor," Felix said as he closed the door to his storeroom. He paused as he noticed Hermione in the doorway. "Can I help you, miss?"

Hermione didn't spare Severus a glance as she walked towards the counter. She took out a piece of parchment from her pocket, and handed it to Felix. "I was wondering if you had any of these in stock."

"Hmmm, I have one or two of them in stock, but I'm assuming you need all of them at one time."

Hermione nodded. "Yes,"

Setting the parchment onto the counter, Felix picked up a quill and dipped it into an ink pot. "It should be ready for collection by next week, Miss…"

"Hermione Granger."

Felix nearly dropped the quill at hearing the name. "Harry Potter's friend?"

Severus almost snorted at the question. Without Hermione, Potter would never have made it through his first year at Hogwarts intact. Glancing sideways at her, it struck him that he had never seen her in that light before.

Hermione pursed her lips, then said. "No, I'm the _other_ Hermione Granger."

A laugh rumbled in Severus' throat, but he turned away quickly, covering up his amusement with a cough.

"Forgive me, Miss Granger, I was merely asking," Felix said somewhat miffed. He jotted down her name in his record book. "I will send an owl when your order is ready.

Looking past Hermione, Felix said, "Do you wish me to put your order onto your account or do you wish to settle the balance now, Professor."

Severus, having composed himself, reached into his pocket and set two galleons onto the counter. "That should cover my last order as well."

"A pleasure doing business with you, as always, Professor," Felix said, scooping up the coins. "Good evening to you, and to you, Miss Granger."

With a final thank you, Hermione turned on her heels and left the shop.

"Miss Granger," Severus called, as the shop door closed behind him.

Hermione paused mid-step, but it was a moment before she turned round to face him. "Yes, Professor," she said.

"Is Draco with you?" he asked.

"No, I came into Hogsmeade alone. I had asked him, but he said…" her voice trailed away at Snape's arched eyebrow.

Realising that he was subtly asking her if could walk with her back to Hogwarts, Hermione gulped. Her stomach twisted in a bundle of nerves, yet as Snape's obsidian gaze continued to hold hers a familiar thrill shot through her.

_Merlin, help me, _she thought.

"Have you any more stops to make?" he asked, taking a step towards her.

In the gentle breeze, the smell of fresh parchment mingled with a rich earthy tang permeated the air. Hermione breathed it in…it was _his_ scent.

Drawing in a breath to calm herself, she said, "No, I'm heading back to Hogwarts."

The sky was almost black and although the castle was only a short distance from the village, Severus did not want Hermione walking back alone.

"Would you permit me to walk with you, then, Miss Granger?" he said coolly.

Hermione nodded.

In the three days since she had been hit with a stunner in the dungeons, he had made a decision that had quite literally changed everything. As he had sat in his quarters, brooding over what had happened to her, he had been unable to deny that he truly cared for her. It had given him a renewed sense of purpose – one free from guilt. After the war had ended, and he had fulfilled his vow to protect Lily's son, Severus had realised that it had not been love that had driven him all those years, but guilt and shame.

So, Severus had set aside any last remnants of disregard he had for Hermione, and reinserted his memories of their relationship into his mind. Since then, he had been overwhelmed by a new and unfamiliar experience; of knowing what it was to have his love returned.

After removing their wands, using them to illuminate the way, they began walking in the direction of the castle.

"Do you come into Hogsmeade often, Professor?" she asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence between them.

"No."

"Have you visited the new bookshop in the village, Birdwhistles?"

"Yes."

"What did you think of it?"

Severus glanced down at her. "It was adequate."

"It's certainly not Flourish and Blotts'," she said, "Although, I did find an interesting book."

"Is there any book you haven't read, Miss Granger?" he said rather wryly.

To his surprise, Hermione laughed softly.

"Lots, Professor. I make it a point of avoiding any book with the word Quidditch in the title."

"A wise choice, Miss Granger," he said, his smirk masked by the darkness around them.

"I thought so, too. Ron and Harry used to waste so much time playing and worrying about Quidditch. It's a wonder they had time to complete their homework and study."

"It's as well they had you as their friend, then, isn't it?" he said.

Hermione glanced up at him sheepishly. "You knew along…that I…"

"That you ensured Potter and Weasley didn't spend six years in detention for failing abysmally in Potions, and every other subject no doubt," he said smoothly.

"Not every subject, Professor," she said, veiling the delight at his praise for her intellect. "Harry was always better at Defence than I was."

"Performance in a classroom, Miss Granger, is significantly different from real life situations," Severus said evenly. "It is my understanding that without you, Potter would never have succeeded in defeating Voldemort."

"Professor, I…"

"Tell me, Miss Granger," Severus cut her off. "Whose idea was it to use an Undetectable Extension Charm on a handbag, then place Phineas' portrait in it, among other things?"

Hermione was thankful that Snape was unable see her flaming cheeks. "Mine," she said quietly.

"Knowledge is easily obtained, but to put it to practical, efficient use is another matter entirely."

Hermione bit her lip, unsure how to respond. The ease at which she was conversing with Snape amazed her. He was still his snarky self, but she couldn't help but wonder what had brought this change in his attitude towards her.

_Perhaps he's not really all that different from his younger self after all._

The sudden realisation astonished her, but strangely she was not horrified by it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok..since I'm back from galavanting in the Scottish Highlands, I am now able to post a new chapter...Thanks to everyone for your reviews and story alerts.**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 9**

**~x~**

Severus raked a hand through his black hair as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, wondering if he was only fooling himself. Hermione was twenty years younger than he was, for Merlin's sake. Not to mention the minor detail that she had no idea _he_ had been her lover for eight months. However, that was unlikely to be a topic of conversation in the near future.

Since their awkward beginning in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago, he and Hermione had formed a friendship of sorts. Nevertheless, he had treaded carefully with her. For while she had not demanded an explanation of his treatment of her as a student, Severus knew he would have to earn her trust. Even still, he found it hard to imagine as to what she could possibly seen in him.

With a deep sigh, Severus turned away from the mirror. He reached for a bottle of firewhiskey sitting on a bookshelf, not bothering with a glass. The amber liquid burned as it slid down his throat, only momentarily numbing his senses. Replacing the bottle, Severus lifted his robes and donned them. Horace was throwing one of his infamous parties this evening, and Severus felt obliged to show his face.

As he walked along the darkened corridor towards Slughorn's study in the dungeons, Severus forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. Several prying eyes locked onto him as he entered the magically enlarged room, and he was immediately reminded of why he hated social gatherings. He saw two witches whisper to each other, with one of them casting a curious look in his direction. Severus merely scowled at her until she snapped her eyes away, seemingly embarrassed.

Glancing around, Slughorn's portly figure was easily recognisable amongst the other guests. Even though he was conversing with someone else, Severus decided he would greet the Potions professor briefly, then quietly slip from the room. Remaining aloof to everyone in his path, he walked across the room and cleared his throat behind Horace.

Horace turned around and grinned widely. "Severus! Glad you could make it, my boy."

"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

"Oh, ho, haven't lost that dry wit of yours, I see," Horace said, laughing.

The corner of Severus' lip curled slightly in a forced smile. If it had been any other man who had greeted him in such a manner, he would have already put him firmly in his place. As it was, he held a genuine respect for the current Head of Slytherin.

"Come, Severus," Horace said, taking a grip of his arm. "Let me introduce you to some people."

"I am unable stay, Horace," Severus said, barely keeping his frustration at bay.

"Nonsense."

"I have work to do…"

Horace, still holding onto Severus' arm, turned his head and said rather loudly, "Miss Granger, I have need of your assistance."

Severus' eyes widened slightly as Hermione broke off her conversation with another witch. A small smile touched her mouth as she met his gaze, and Severus imagined he saw colour rise in her cheeks. However, she looked away quickly before he could be certain.

"How can I be of assistance, Professor?" she asked.

"You must help me convince Severus to stay a while."

Hermione smirked. "I am an apprentice, Professor, not a miracle worker."

Severus' eyes narrowed slightly as a hearty laugh boomed from Horace's huge barrel chest. In the process, his grip slackened on Severus' arm, and he took the opportunity to step back from his old Potions professor. His gaze flickered towards Hermione again and the playful amusement in her brown eyes caught him off guard. He remembered how she used to look at him that way; challenging him to a battle of words. She had been one of the few who had understood and enjoyed his dry humour, and the only one who had put up with his dark moods. Nonetheless, harsh reality quickly set in. He was only fooling himself if he believed she could ever feel anything for him beyond friendship.

"Well said, Miss Granger, well said," Horace said, still chortling.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Professor?"

"Yes, come and join us for a drink. I'd like for you to meet some friends of mine."

Hermione excused herself from the witch she had been speaking with only a few minutes. She was fully aware as she walked towards Slughorn that he only wanted her company so she could impress his other guests with her 'witty repartee'. Under any other circumstances she would have politely refused, but not tonight. In fact, she was pleased the good professor had provided her with an excuse to be close to Snape.

Over the past few weeks, it seemed as if the old barriers that had previously existed between them had slowly been dismantled. Snape was still…well, Snape, but as more similarities with his younger self became apparent she couldn't ignore her growing attraction towards him.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," she said sweetly.

"Miss Granger," he replied.

His tone sounded almost cold, but the slight inclination of his head was proof enough that he wasn't annoyed with her.

"Hold him there for one moment, will you Miss Granger, I'm a trifle parched," Horace said.

Hermione nodded and smiled, while Severus frowned.

"I didn't expect to see you here this evening," she said, once again being the first to break the silence between them.

"As I've already told Horace, I can't stay."

Hermione hid her disappointment at his determination to leave.

"Oh, Professor, I was wondering if you had any word back from Mr Berrycloth yet."

"No, not yet, Miss Granger."

"Do you think it would be too late to add in an order of horsetail?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Ah, so you have finally figured it out, have you?

Pursing her lips slightly, she said, "You knew all along it was horsetail I needed, didn't you?"

"And what would you have learned if I had simply told you, hmmm?"

His low, silky voice sent a delicious shiver down her spine. However, she kept her composure, and feigning annoyance said, "Well, at least I wouldn't have ruined a set of robes when yesterday's potions exploded all around me."

Severus suppressed a smile as he remembered her standing in the middle of the Potions laboratory covered in green gunge. The shock on her face had been priceless. Of course, he had known that without horsetail something like that would happen. He had never been in the habit of simply spoon feeding those under his tutelage, and Hermione was no exception. And besides, she would not have appreciated being told why her attempts at brewing an improved Skele-Gro potion kept failing.

"Excuse me, Professor, but would it be possible to steal Miss Granger away from you for a few minutes."

"And you are?" Severus said, turning round, his dark eyes scrutinising the young wizard who had interrupted his conversation with Hermione.

"Alistair Dankworth," he said, "I'm with the _Daily Prophet_."

Hermione stiffened. "I have nothing to say to you."

Severus sensed Hermione's discomfort and instinctively stepped closer to her.

"It's been almost two years since You-Know-Who's demise and you've yet to say a word on what it was like to stand side by side with Harry Potter," Dankworth said, while his Quick-Quotes Quill hovered above his shoulder.

"Didn't you hear what she said," Severus said menacingly.

Dankworth ignored Severus, and instead ploughed ahead with another question. "Were you ever romantically involved with either Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley?"

Hermione glared at him indignantly. "Leave me alone."

"One of them broke your heart, eh?" Dankworth said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Anger swirled within Severus and he clenched his fists, his finger nails biting into his palms. Dankworth was as insufferable as Rita Skeeter, but he was well aware of how anything he said now would be twisted.

"And is it true, Miss Granger," Dankworth pressed on, "That Bellatrix Lestrange tortured you in Malfoy Manor?"

"I…"

"Why do you think you managed to survive intact when others, like the Longbottoms, were not so fortunate?"

Severus' eyes snapped to Hermione's and he saw her hands trembling. His insides suddenly twisted with raw emotion: it wasn't a rumour. Yet, how _had_ she survived Bellatrix's madness? Despite this thought his fury quickly rose, and turning his head, he glowered at the pillock of a journalist in front of him.

Hot, angry tears brimmed in Hermione's eyes. "Forgive me, Professor," she said quietly and hurried from the room.

"She's a little unbalanced, isn't she?" Dankworth said, seemingly disappointed that he had gotten the interview he had hoped for.

"You've never experienced the Craticus Curse have you, Mr Dankworth?" Severus said coolly.

Looking up from the few notes he had managed to take, Dankworth said blandly, "No, I haven't."

Severus levelled his gaze at him, his features impenetrable as granite. "Perhaps your perception of Miss Granger would be less judgemental if you had."

Alistair Dankworth's eyes widened slightly and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "What are you saying, Professor?" he laughed uneasily.

"I remember now, Mr Dankworth, why I refused to allow you into my NEWT Potions class," Severus replied smoothly.

Without another word, Severus swept from the room, his robes billowing behind him. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he walked; Dankworth had been fortunate that they had been in a room full of people. Striding through the deserted corridors, he had a good idea that he would find Hermione in the dungeons.

"Miss Granger?" he called as he entered the Potions storeroom.

"Professor." She rose to her feet, wiping her eyes. "I…What are you doing here?"

Severus closed the door behind him, and with a flick of his hand he lit several candles. He seethed inside at her tear stained cheeks, half wishing he had taught that bloody fool a lesson he would not forget. After a moment, he crossed the room, each step slow, purposeful.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Hermione swallowed hard at the intensity of his gaze. "I'm fine, Professor. Really."

"Sit," he said, motioning towards her chair.

She did as he said, watching him as he lifted a pestle and mortar off a shelf. A few minutes later, he was grinding several ingredients, making a potion that Hermione did not recognise. _It must be one of his inventions, _she thought, impressed. With a flick of his wand he lit a flame underneath a cauldron, and emptied the contents of the mortar into it. He then added bullbadox juice to it, stirred it nine times clockwise, then left it to sit down in the chair opposite her.

"What is it, Professor?" she asked, looking curiously at the simmering cauldron.

"It's something I call pax pacis."

_Peace._

"Oh." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to cause a scene earlier."

Severus gripped the arms of the chair tighter, and fought to control his anger.

"Mr Dankworth is the one at fault, Miss Granger. He had no right to upset and humiliate you as he did."

"All except the Mudblood…" Hermione whispered.

Severus' eyes flashed with fury. "What?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "That's what she…Bellatrix said."

"Miss Granger, you don't have to…"

"She wanted to know where I had gotten the Sword of Gryffindor."

Severus felt his stomach tighten.

"I thought I was going to die," she choked.

Snape simply stared at her, and his silence only made her feel worse. Overcome with emotion, she rose from her chair; she had to get out of this room.

"Miss Granger…Hermione, wait."

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she slowly turned around. Snape had risen from his seat as well. She searched his face for any sign of anger or mockery, but found none.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

Suddenly Snape's arms were around her. Hermione gripped the front of his robes, and buried her face in his chest. Everything about it felt right; his scent was familiar, comforting. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, and for the first time in months she felt safe.


	10. Chapter 10

**Finally, another chapter. Thanks to everyone who has been following this story, and I am sorry that I didn't get a chance to thank everyone personally who left a review - they were very much apprectiated :) **

**Now, on with the chapter...**

**Chapter 10**

**~x~**

The following morning, Severus silently descended the stairs leading down into the dungeons. He had left the Great Hall shortly after giving his morning address, and before Hermione had finished her breakfast. His lips thinned as he remembered how shaken she had been last night. For a brief moment, he had thought to write to the editor at the _Daily Prophet_, but he might as well address it to the giant squid for all the good it would do. However, he would have words with Horace. Under no circumstance was Alistair Dankworth, or any journalist for that matter, to be invited to Hogwarts again.

As he made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeons, Severus' lingering anger gave way to more perplexing thoughts. When Hermione had looked at him, with her velvety brown filled with fear and embarrassment, he was unable to restrain himself. To his surprise, and elation, she hadn't pushed him away; rather she'd buried her face in his chest. Nevertheless, their embrace had played on his mind all night. Had she been so distraught that she would have welcomed anyone's embrace, even his? Or, Merlin forbid, had she seen his attempt to comfort her as a paternal gesture?

Severus shook himself from his thoughts as he entered the Potions storeroom. It was empty. He had wanted to speak with Draco, hoping he could tell him exactly what had happened to Hermione in Malfoy Manor. Glancing at a clock on the wall, he knew that he did not have enough time to wait for Draco to return; his NEWT class would already be lining up in the corridor. As he looked around the room, he saw Hermione's work station and walked towards it. He needed a piece of parchment to leave Draco a note, and he did not think she would begrudge him for taking some of hers.

However, as he stood by the workbench his curiosity got the better of him. He lifted one of her books, and after reading the title, he flicked though it. The corners of his mouth curved slightly as he saw sentences underlined and her neat handwriting in the margins. He could almost hear her sighing with exasperation at some of the ludicrous theories on 'modern healing potions'. After looking through several other books he quickly scratched out a note to Draco. But as he turned away from the workbench he knocked over Hermione's satchel.

"Damn," he muttered.

Bending down, he gathered up two rolls of parchment and a journal. A photograph was poking out of the leather bound book, and Severus' eyes widened as he saw who it was. Sliding it out completely, he swallowed hard and stared down at his eighteen year old self. The realisation that Hermione had kept a photograph of him, and that she carried it about with her caused a warmth to spread through him.

_I wonder if she'd still carry it if she knew it was me, not…'Septimius', _he thought ruefully.

He finally tore his gaze away from the photograph, and opened the front cover of the journal to replace the photograph in it. As he did so, however, he was confronted with his own spiky, black handwriting. His heart almost stopped at the words _Property of Severus Snape. _He suddenly remembered handing her this same journal one evening as she left his study; it explained why it was open now. For as brilliant as Hermione was, he was positive that she could not have broken the charm he had placed on it.

"Merlin, she knows," he whispered.

The revelation hit him with the force of a stunner and Severus placed a hand on the workbench to steady himself. _She knows_. His thoughts began to run wild as he tried to make sense of it all. Raking a hand through his dark hair, he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. Once he had gathered his wits about him again he replaced all of Hermione's belongings back into her satchel, including the journal. He wouldn't confront her now; he couldn't, as he might end up saying something he would later regret.

After leaving the note for Draco on top of a pile of Quidditch magazines, Severus swept from the storeroom.

An hour later, as the last of his NEWT students left the Defence classroom, Severus scooped up a bundle of essays. He would mark them later; a more pressing matter needed to be dealt with first. Exiting the classroom, he scowled at the second years lined up outside, instantly silencing them.

Continuing down the corridor, it was not long before he reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's study. He gave the password, and as it jumped aside, he climbed the spiral staircase. The portraits stirred as he billowed into the study, slamming the door behind him.

"Black," he said tersely. "Find Albus and bring him here."

Phineas Black sat with one leg crossed over the other in a wingback chair, holding a book in his right hand. He glanced up at Severus, gave him a peeved look, then said, "Can't you see I'm busy."

Severus narrowed his eyes, and ground out his words. "Find Albus, Black. Now."

With an exaggerated sigh Phineas rose from his chair and disappeared out of his frame. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as conflicting thoughts and emotions warred within him. He had questions that needed answers, but before he dared to talk with Hermione he had to be sure of certain facts.

"Severus, you wished to see me," Albus said, entering his portrait.

Severus had been on speaking terms with Dumbledore for the past few weeks; it seemed Hermione's forgiving nature had had an effect on him. Standing behind his desk, Severus paced for a few moments before turning towards the older wizard.

"Albus, has Hermione Granger spoken with you alone since she arrived at Hogwarts?"

"Not to my knowledge," Dumbledore replied, concern growing in his eyes. "Is there something the matter, Severus?"

Severus wasn't sure he wanted to discuss this any further with Dumbledore, considering he would not be able to provide him with answers he needed. But before he could respond Dilys Derwent piped up in her portrait.

"I told Phineas he was wrong to lie to that poor girl," she said, frowning at the former Slytherin headmaster.

Severus snapped his head round in time to see a flurry of black robes, as Phineas made a swift exit from his frame. From the shadows, though, he swore he heard a faint, throaty laugh. His eyes narrowed to slits, angry that Phineas had interfered in his affairs.

"What exactly did Black tell Miss Granger?" Severus demanded.

"Let's see if I can remember this correctly," Dilys said, tapping a finger on her chin. "Ah, yes…She came here one night, terribly upset over something. She wanted to leave a letter for you…"

"What did Black say, Dilys?" Severus repeated, impatiently.

"Patience, I'm getting to that," she said. "When she asked Phineas about his knowledge of your time-travelling, and if you had any memory of it, he told her that Dumbledore had obliviated you, and you remembered nothing."

"What?" Severus said incredulously. "And you never thought to tell me this before now."

Dilys adjusted her pointed hat, then said, "You never asked, Severus."

"Severus, what is going on here?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, Albus," Severus replied coolly.

Without another word, he turned and strode from the study.

Soon he was standing atop the Astronomy Tower, overlooking ground surrounding Hogwarts. He crossed his arms of his chest, processing the events of the past few hours. Phineas' interference still angered him, though learning of it clarified why Hermione had not already packed her bags and left Hogwarts. And it seemed that she had somehow come to terms with the fact that it was _him_ she had been involved with.

Uncrossing his arms, he placed his hands on the iron rail, curling his fingers around it. Perhaps it was best if she didn't know the truth. He loved her deeply, but he did not want to place an wedge in their fledging friendship.

_Open up to her, Severus, let her see the man she loved. _

He closed his eyes at the thought. What if he did open up to her, and allowed her into his life; could she love _him _as deeply, and with the same passion? Drawing in a deep breath, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the iron rail tighter. Severus remembered another time, another woman…Lily. Losing her friendship had haunted him for years, and the very thought of having Hermione cut him out of her life terrified him.

_Hermione's not like Lily…She'll listen to you, she'll understand._

Severus opened his eyes again. Hermione had not only lived through a war, but she had survived six years with Potter and Weasley. She could handle the truth.

A short while later, he finally left the Astronomy Tower and made his way towards his quarters. He had only shrugged off his robes when his fireplace glowed green, and moments later Draco dusted himself off as he stepped into the living room.

"I just got your note," Draco said, and motioned his head towards a bottle of firewhiskey. "Do you mind?"

Severus pressed two fingers onto his temples and moved them in a circular motion. "No, but pour me a drink as well. There are glasses in the cupboard above your head."

The glasses clinked as Draco lifted them from the cupboard. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about?" he asked, sniffing the firewhiskey before pouring it.

"It's an…unpleasant matter I wish to discuss," Severus said as he sank down into his favourite armchair. Minerva had commented on its threadbare state last month, but he had scowled at her; it wasn't going anywhere.

Draco turned around to face his godfather, a worried expression on his face. "Has something happened to my parents?"

"No," Severus reassured him. "It's to do with Miss Granger, actually."

"Hermione?" Draco handed Severus a glass. "And you're coming to me about her because…"

"I was hoping you could shed light on something that happened during the war."

"Why the sudden interest?" Draco asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

Severus took a sip of his drink before answering. "A certain event of the war was insensitively dragged up by a journalist at Horace's party last night. I need to know details in the event the _Daily Prophet_ does decide to print some ridiculous article."

Slowly sitting down in the chair opposite Severus, Draco swallowed hard. "Y-You want to know what happened at the manor."

Severus nodded.

Draco's hand trembled as he raised the glass tip his lips. He kept his eyes lowered, unable to meet Severus' dark gaze. He had seen enough horror at his father's estate to last ten lifetimes. Many nights he lay awake on his bed, afraid to close his eyes; afraid that he would hear tormented screams or see Voldemort's accused snake feeding on a lifeless body.

"I take it you know that Potter, Weasley, and Hermione were captured by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor?" Draco said.

Again, Severus silently nodded.

It took a moment before Draco could continue. In the past he could have recounted this as nothing more than a sickening memory, but not now. Hermione was his friend, the only true friend he'd ever had, and it only made this harder. He found his voice after a long silence and began to tell Severus everything that had happened.

"Bella was incensed when she saw Potter had the Sword of Gryffindor," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "She ordered me to take them all to the cellar; all except…Hermione. Bella, she…she used the Cruciatus on her. I could hear her screaming…"

Severus' face was expressionless, despite the fury that was twisting his insides. "What made Bella stop?"

Draco finally met Severus' gaze. "Hermione lied to her."

For a split second Severus' inscrutable mask slipped. "What?"

"She told Bella that it was a copy of the real sword. Bella had the goblin, Griphook, look at it, but he told her it was a fake, too." Draco snorted. "The bloody goblin probably wanted it for himself."

Draco then continued to tell Severus how Potter, Weasley, and Hermione managed to escape. However, Severus was no longer listening. All of his thoughts were focused on one thing: Hermione had managed to lie while being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. He had seen Death Eaters crumble under less. Far less. The sheer mental strength that would have been required left Severus with a renewed, deeper respect for Hermione.

"I don't know where they went after that," Draco said, "And well, you know what happened when Voldemort showed up at the manor…"

Severus rose from his chair and placed a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. "Thank you, Draco. I know that wasn't easy to do."

Smiling up at Severus half-heartedly, Draco said, "If it helps Hermione then that's all that matters."

"I assure you, it will," Severus said.

Draco drained the last of his drink. "Well, I best be getting back to the storeroom; Slughorn is working me to the bone."

"I would expect no less from Horace," Severus said, "And besides, it's the perfect opportunity to expand your knowledge on potions."

Draco sighed with feigned frustration, and said, "You know, you're as bad as Hermione."

Severus arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He watched Draco walk to the fireplace and lift a handful of floo powder.

"See you later, Severus."

"Goodbye, Draco."

For an hour after Draco had left his quarters Severus sat nursing another glass of firewhiskey. Finally, he rose to his feet and donned his robes. He had never felt so nervous in his life, but he knew that he could not put off talking with Hermione any longer. She deserved to know the truth, and, as hard as it might be, he would respect whatever decision she came to regarding him.

Steeling himself as he lifted a handful of floo powder, he said, "Potions laboratory."


	11. Chapter 11

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 11**

**~x~**

Severus dusted himself off as he stepped out of the fireplace at the front of the Potions laboratory. The room was empty, but a bubbling cauldron on one of the workbenches told him that Hermione was somewhere nearby. As he approached the brewing potion, he cast an approving eye over a neat row of finely chopped ingredients. Of course, she had always been meticulous, but he had always stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

He idly glanced down at several pieces of parchment on the workbench, which detailed her experiment. He frowned slightly as he read through the list of ingredients; it wasn't any potion he recognised. It certainly wasn't part of her assignments for the Ministry, as he had carefully scrutinised each one. Intrigued, he began to read through the short synopsis she had written. As he reached the end of the first paragraph it triggered a memory: he saw himself settled beside Hermione on the settee in her flat. She had posed this exact idea to him one evening, but she had been elusive in giving him a direct answer for such a hypothesis.

Before he could come to any rational conclusion, though, the door opened and Hermione entered. She held a cup of tea in one hand, a scone in the other, and, with her foot, gently kicked the door closed. Severus quickly slid the parchment in his hand to the bottom of the pile where he'd found it, just as she turned round.

"Professor!" she said, seemingly startled by his presence. "What are you…I mean, I didn't expect to see you down here today."

Suddenly, his resolve to speak openly and candidly with her crumbled. The words in his mouth turned to dust, and he swallowed thickly in an attempt to maintain his composure. Tearing his gaze away from her, Severus motioned to the cauldron.

"I don't recognise this potion, what is it?"

Hermione's heart fell in her chest at his almost clinical tone. She glanced at his face for a brief moment, trying to gauge what he was thinking. There was a familiar glint in his eyes; he was uncomfortable. She looked away from him, focusing instead on setting her cup down without spilling tea everywhere. Perhaps he was embarrassed by her tears last night and regretted being so impulsive in embracing her. Part of her hoped it wasn't true, while another part whispered that he would never truly be _her_ Severus. The thought caused her throat to tighten. She was dangerously close to falling in love with him all over again, but was afraid that friendship was all she could ever hope for.

She moved closer to the cauldron, then cleared her throat. "It's something I've been experimenting on. I'm hoping it will be of benefit to my parents."

A muscle jerked in Severus' jaw, and his eyes widened slightly. Nevertheless, he said smoothly, "Your parents?"

Drawing in a deep breath, she wished he'd forewarned her that he intended to visit with her this afternoon. No one knew that she was working on this potion, and she intended to keep it that way. If the Ministry were to find out she was experimenting with a potion that could potentially reverse obliviation she would be in serious trouble. Of course, she could see countless benefits, but the Ministry would not see it that way, especially if such a potion were to fall into the wrong hands.

For a brief moment she considered lying to Severus of the potion's true nature, but decided against it. She might have been able to fool Bellatrix Lestrange, but Severus, she knew, would not buy her lies so easily.

Collecting her thoughts, she said calmly, "As you are aware my parents are Muggles, and I was…am Harry's best friend. During the war, what with Muggles being targeted by Death Eaters, I was terrified that my mum and dad could have been killed because of me."

Hermione paused when she felt her legs grow faint, and she sat down on a stool. She picked up her cup of tea, finding some comfort in its warmth and aroma.

"Your parents weren't harmed in the war, were they?" Severus asked.

The hint of concern in his voice caused Hermione to lift her gaze to his. She couldn't figure him out; one moment he was cold, distant, and the next he was staring at her with a soul penetrating gaze.

"No, they weren't, Professor."

"Then why…."

"Because I obliviated them – my own parents," she said her voice thick with emotion. "It was the only way I could make sure they'd be safe. And don't look at me like that – yes, I _did_ consider asking the Order to protect them. But my parents would never have agreed to go into hiding knowing I was in danger. I'm their only child, for Merlin's sake."

Hermione took a sip of tea, needing a few seconds to compose herself. "It's my hope that this potion will restore my parents' memories."

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "What you are proposing to do will not sit well with the Ministry."

"I don't intend on telling them," Hermione said defiantly.

A heavy silence descended on the room, engulfing it. For a long moment Severus simply stood staring at her, his dark eyes giving nothing of his thoughts away. Hermione's heart began to thump in her chest, for with one letter to the Ministry he could finish her career before it had even begun.

Uncrossing his arms, Severus held out his hand, then said in silky voice, "Let me see your research notes."

Almost choking on her tea, she gawped at him incredulously. "Y-You mean you...want to…to…"

"Help," he said, with the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. "Yes."

Hermione set her cup down, and rifled through her satchel, lifting out a thick bundle of parchment. She clutched it in her hands, and her voice was shaky as she said, "You don't have to do this, Professor. I wouldn't want your position here to be compromised because of me."

"Who knows of your parents' current…condition?" he asked, seemingly disregarding her concerns.

"Only Ron and Harry, but they would never tell a soul what I did."

Severus nodded. Potter and Weasley would be easy enough to handle if they decided to betray Hermione's trust.

"Now, let me see your notes, Hermione" he said.

Hermione's lips curved at his use of her first name. After handing him the notes she lifted her cup again, but she was too nervous to eat her scone – even if it was smothered with strawberry jam and Cornish clotted cream. She watched Severus as he read through her notes, tracing a finger around his lips in concentration. More than once she had given serious thought to using the potion on him; that is, if it worked. But in the end she had decided against it. Explaining to her parents what had happened was going to be wrought with difficulties, and she could only pray that they forgave her for what she'd done. Severus, on the other hand, would be a different matter entirely.

"I take it this is your base potion," Severus said, motioning to the cauldron.

"Yes, although it's not reacting with the active ingredients as well as I would like."

Severus ran a long, pale finger down the list of ingredients, then finally said, "Have you considered using ginger roots instead of silverweed? It would…."

"Reduce the acidity level. Of course; why didn't I think of that before?" Hermione said, reaching for a quill.

A rare smile touched Severus' mouth as she snatched the bundle of parchments from his hand. He observed her silently as she made changes to her notes. Her hair was pulled back from her face, allowing him a clear view of her delicate cheek bones, straight nose, and full lips. He swept his gaze along her jaw line, then down the curve of her smooth, creamy neck.

She was beautiful.

His heart wrenched within him as he thought he could lose her by telling her the truth. But he could live with her being nothing more than a friend, couldn't he?

"Do you mind cutting up some ginger roots for me, Professor?" Hermione asked without lifting her head. "They're in a jar on the shelf."

A few minutes later Severus was slicing the ginger roots in to thin, evenly cut strips. He surreptitiously watched Hermione as she added more ingredients to the cauldron. The concentration on her face and the enthusiasm in her eyes was something he would never tire of. He could recall in his mind brewing with her on numerous occasions in her flat in London, and now he fully understood why he had enjoyed it so much.

"That will need to simmer for twenty minutes before we can add in the ginger root," Hermione said, wiping her hands clean with a damp cloth. "Would you like a cup of tea while we wait?"

"Thank you. Black with one sugar."

Severus finished cutting up the rest of the ginger root while Hermione rattled around at the tea station she'd set up for herself. He knew she much preferred making tea the Muggle way, claiming that magical tea tasted like dish water. She filled up the kettle under a tap, though used her wand to heat the water up.

"If you want something to eat I have biscuits in the storeroom down the corridor."

"Just tea will be fine."

"Are you sure? They're Jammie Dodgers; I've got Draco addicted to them."

Severus paused slicing and met her gaze, his face deadpan. "If they'd been custard creams I might have been tempted."

Hermione laughed. "I'll be sure to buy a packet when I'm back in London."

"You're going back to London over half-term, then?" Severus asked coolly.

Tapping a tea spoon on the palm of her hand, she said, "I'm not sure yet. I've been invited to the Weasley's for the holidays, but I haven't decided if I am going to go or not."

Severus resisted the urge to shudder. He couldn't imagine worse place to spend the half-term holidays.

"Did you not spend your holidays with them during school?" he said.

"I did, but Molly's become almost unbearable to be around since the war."

Severus arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Hermione sighed. "She's convinced that Ron and I are meant to be together. Don't get me wrong, I love Ron, but not in that way. It would have been an absolute disaster, but Molly keeps pressurising me; telling me I should give it a chance."

"I see," Severus said flatly.

The kettle whistled as the water reached boiling point, and Hermione poured it into a cup. After removed the teabag and stirring in a cube of sugar, she crossed the room and handed the cup to Severus.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems," Hermione said, her cheeks flushing.

Severus took a sip of his tea "You should set Mrs Weasley straight."

"Have you ever tried to reason with Molly?" she said with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Could you imagine what she'd do if I told her I was in love with someone other than Ron."

Grief flickered across Hermione's eyes at her last words, and Severus felt a knot form in his stomach. She turned away from him and began to absently riffle through the pile of parchments. The knot tightened and Severus swallowed hard. She was still in love with him…with Septimius.

Setting down his teacup, he placed a hand on the workbench to steady himself. "Hermione," he said in a low, silky voice. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I think I can handle everything from here if you need to leave."

"Hermione…"

"Please, just leave me alone."

Severus closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. "Hermione, Phineas lied to you...I remember everything that happened between us."


	12. Chapter 12

**Ok, phew! I finally got the next chapter finished. Ok, I know I left you on a particularly mean cliffhanger, but I hope that this chapter will be worth it! **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - I am sorry if I didn't get a personal reply sent to you, but I shall do so soon. **

**And I don't think I've ever put a disclaimer on this story - so here it is: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does!**

**Chapter 12**

**~x~**

_I remember everything that happened between us…_

Numbness spread through Hermione's body as Severus' words echoed in her mind. The cup in her hand slipped unnoticed from her grasp and smashed on the floor. _He knew_. A hundred questions assailed her mind, all demanding an answer. Closing her eyes, she balled her fists, both furious and mortified by Phineas' lie. The slick Slytherin had known the truth; he had made a fool out of her.

_But what if he hadn't have lied to you? You would have left Hogwarts, then what?_

Hermione did not want to even think on what Phineas Black's motives had been. She sighed heavily and opened her eyes again. For a brief moment she thought she was alone, but could sense Severus' dark gaze boring into her. The seconds seemed to stretch into hours until finally she found the strength to form her words.

"How long have you known?" she asked, staring down at her trembling hands on her lap.

"Some weeks," came the reply.

"So…So Phineas was being truthful when he said Dumbledore obliviated you?"

"Yes."

A lump formed in her throat and hot tears pricked her eyes. "W-Why didn't you tell me?"

When she was met with a wall of silence it caused her chest to tighten. Did he regret what had happened between them? Had he sensed her growing attachment to him, and now wanted to put an end to it.

Severus raked a hand through his hair. "Until this morning I had no idea you knew who I was."

It felt like an eternity before Hermione lifted her gaze to meet his. Her chocolate eyes were ringed with redness, though it was the uncertainty in them that gave rise to his fears. He drew in a ragged breath; he couldn't do this. He couldn't bare his soul to her. Tearing his gaze away from her, Severus turned on his heels and walked back towards the fireplace.

"Severus…Wait!"

Hermione's use of his first name forced him to stop. Slowly he turned round as she slipped off the stool, though she did not walk towards him. Severus, too, remained rooted to the spot, afraid that the slightest movement might send her scampering like a wounded animal.

"Don't do this to me," she said, the words catching in her throat. "Don't tell me you remember everything and then walk away."

"What would you have me say?"

Hermione swallowed hard, fighting to keep her emotions under control. "Just tell me once and for all if…if I still mean something to you."

"I'm not _him_, Hermione," Severus finally said. "I'm not the same man I was twenty years ago."

"You're wrong," Hermione cried. "I tried to tell myself the same thing, but you're as rude, stubborn, and snarky as _he_ was." She took a step towards him. "But you're also brilliant like him, and…and I think I'm falling in love with you."

Severus' heart was thumping so hard against his chest he was sure Hermione could hear it. His whole body was charged with emotion, but he remained where he was. He wasn't ready to close the distance between them; at least, not yet.

"Look at me, Hermione," he said hoarsely, and swept a hand down along his body. "Do you really want to be involved with…with _this_?"

Fresh tears gathered in Hermione's eyes. "Do you care for me at all, Severus?"

"Hermione…"

"Just answer the question," she said, her voice strained.

Severus closed his eyes, sighed, then said, "Yes."

"Then why are you trying to push me away?" Hermione wiped away the trail of tears on her cheek. "Do you think I'm going to wake up some morning and realise I've made a horrible mistake?"

Hermione saw a muscle jerk in his jaw.

She took a step towards him, her whole body trembling. "You do, don't you? You think I won't be able to love you as much as I loved _him_. Well, you're wrong Severus Snape."

Severus silently watched as she closed the space between them until, at last, there were only mere inches separating them. All around him her earthy yet floral scent permeated the air, overwhelming his senses. She stared up at him, and he swallowed thickly as he dared to meet her gaze. Her chocolate eyes were burning with desire…for him. As Hermione's hand slipped into his, entwining her fingers with his, Severus' pulse hammered in his throat.

Slowly he reached out to touch her cheek, gently caressing her smooth skin. A contended sigh escaped Hermione's lips as she leaned further into his caress, inviting Severus to close the last remaining space between them. He slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her tight against him. And when she relaxed in his embrace he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart.

"I've missed you, Severus," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the more solid feel of his adult body. After a moment, she drew back from him and reached up, combing her fingers through his dark, shoulder length hair. His normally impassive features relaxed at her touch, but it was the intensity in his eyes that reassured her of the depth of his feelings.

With one arm still firmly around her waist, he tenderly caught her chin with his other hand. He brushed the pad of his thumb lightly across her lips, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. As he lowered his mouth to hers, Hermione closed her eyes. He was hesitant at first, but when she slipped her arms around his neck his kiss deepened. She parted her lips, moaning softly as he explored her mouth, caressing her.

When he finally drew back from her she was left breathless. He then took her face in both of his hands, never having seen _this_ Severus so unguarded, so vulnerable.

"I need to ask for your forgiveness, Hermione," he said, his voice low, disarming. "For everything."

"You know I do, but it's in the past, Severus," she replied, placing her hands over his. "There's no need for you to dwell on it anymore."

Suddenly, the laboratory door swung open and Draco sauntered in.

"Hey Hermione, there's a…"

Draco's next words died on his lips at the sight of Hermione in Severus' embrace. In an instant, however, the two had disentangled, though Hermione's cheeks were flushed to scarlet. Severus stood rigid, his features once more cold and emotionless.

"Oh my gods, I've died and gone to hell!" Draco groaned.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you have a reason for bursting in here, Draco?"

"I…uh…there's a letter for Hermione."

"Oh, right, thanks, Draco," she said, "I'll be along in a minute."

Draco shoved his hands in his pocket, clearly embarrassed and shocked by what he'd seen. "All right, then. See you in a bit," he said.

As soon as the door clicked shut Hermione started to laugh. "Merlin, Severus, did you see Draco's face?"

Severus gave a noncommittal grunt. "Clearly he was never taught to knock before entering a room."

"Did you ever see Lucius knock a door before he entered?" she said. "No? Then I rest my case."

She turned to walk back to the simmering cauldron when Severus caught her wrist. "We need to talk, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "About what?"

"We need to be careful. If the Ministry was to hear that we were involved they wouldn't hesitate to terminate your position with them."

A flash of panic flickered across her eyes. "They wouldn't do that."

"I'm supposed to be your supervisor, Hermione," Severus said.

Hermione smirked. "So I can't blow you kisses in the Great Hall, then?"

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"I'm joking, Severus," she said. "Now, if you don't mind, could you help me finish this potion?"

While Hermione stirred the potion clockwise, Severus gradually added in the ginger roots. From the corner of his eye he saw her raise her head every few minutes, a small yet contended smile on her face. At last, the potion turned a pale pink, and with a flick of her wand, Hermione extinguished the flame beneath the cauldron.

"It'll take a few days before we can test it," she said.

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Test it? Exactly how do you intend to test it?"

Twisting her wand in her hands, she said, "I don't think you'll approve."

"Tell me, Hermione," he said firmly.

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "I will need to obliviate myself - just an inconsequential memory, though."

Severus let out a deep sigh. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

Hermione shook her head.

"All right, we'll test it in my quarters on Saturday – no one will disturb us there."

"Only if you're sure."

Severus cleared away the remains of the ginger roots with his wand. "I said I would help you, didn't I?"

"Thank you, Severus, it really means a lot to me."

A clock on the wall chimed four. Severus replaced his wand back into a pocket in his robes, then held a phial for Hermione while she poured in a measure of the potion. Once she had the stopper in it, he pulled her close against him.

"I have a staff meeting now, but floo to my quarters after dinner later. We've a lot to discuss."

Hermione laughed softly. "Do we now?"

"Yes, we do" he replied, and kissed her briefly.

After a few more moments Severus released her and walked towards the fireplace. He lifted a handful of floo powder, and after stating he wanted to floo to the staffroom, he disappeared in a green flash.

Hermione cleared the rest of her experiment away and then washed her hands. She lifted the phial and charmed it so that no one would be able to remove the stopper. Once she had tucked it safely into her pocket, she doused the candles with her wand. Leaving the laboratory, she laughed to herself, wondering how in Merlin's name she was going to explain her and Severus to Draco.


	13. Chapter 13

**I just want to say thank you to everyone for their wonderful reviews! They made my day! And thank you so much for everyone who has added this story to their favourites or has it on alert. **

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 13**

**~x~**

"Since when did you two start getting so cosy?"

Hermione had only just closed the door to the storeroom when Draco hit her with the question. She bit the inside of her cheeks to stop another laugh from escaping, holding onto the door handle for longer than was necessary. When she finally did turn round he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. It was difficult to pinpoint the exact expression on his face, but it seemed he still hadn't gotten over the shock of seeing her in Severus' arms.

"If only I had a camera right now," she said in amusement.

"I'm glad one of us is able to see the funny side of this," he said sarcastically.

Hermione walked towards her usual spot at the workbench, her lips twitching with a sly smile. "It's as well you came in when you did because Severus was just about to…."

Draco raised his right palm to her. "I don't want to hear this; I'd rather not have to scourgify my mind, thank you very much."

"I thought you wanted details?" she said sweetly.

"Forget that I ever asked anything, OK."

He turned away from her muttering something under his breath about girls and their 'details'.

"Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "No, of course you didn't."

"I know it's a bit of a shock…

Draco snorted. "You're telling me. Two months ago you couldn't stand being in the same room as him, and now…now _this_."

"You're not annoyed, are you?"

"Why would I be?"

"I just though…Well, Severus _is_ your godfather."

"Severus is a grown man, he can make his own decisions," Draco said. "And it's none of my business who he chooses to date."

Hermione would have continued to see Severus with or without Draco's blessing, but it was a relief to know that it would not put a strain on their friendship. She flicked her wand at a kettle on the workbench and tossed a teabag into a clean cup.

"Do you want a cup, too?" she asked.

"Yeah, all right. But I don't want mine made in a cup; I'd like it brewed if you don't mind."

Hermione raised her brow slightly, but said nothing. With his pointed chin and aristocratic air, she could almost imagine Draco sporting an Eton uniform. They all swaggered about the elite Muggle school much like he did, well, used to do. Since the war she had noticed a significant change in Draco. Of course, she believed he would always retain that Malfoy 'posh streak', but he certainly was no longer as arrogant as he had once been.

As steam rose from the bubbling teapot she poured milk into the cups, and added two cubes of sugar to Draco's. He settled himself on a stool opposite her, and she smiled to herself as he reached for two Jammie Dodgers.

"So, what happened between you two anyway?" Draco asked.

Hermione thought quickly, deciding that a vague answer would be best. "We found some common ground, and I guess from then on we began to see each other in a different light."

Apart from the portraits in the Headmaster's study, no one else knew of her and Severus' prior relationship, and she intended to keep it that way. The last thing either of them wanted was for Unspeakables to appear at Hogwarts, intent of arresting Severus. For, as far as the Ministry was concerned he was still blissfully unaware of his time-travelling. Of course, she trusted Draco, but there was simply too much at stake to confide in him.

Rubbing a hand across his chin, he said thoughtfully, "You know, I really should have seen this coming?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, that night in the infirmary; I'd never seen Severus react like that, but I just shrugged it off as him being really pissed by students being out after curfew. And for a few weeks you haven't been grumbling like you normally did when you had a meeting with him. I just figured you'd decided to grin and bear it."

"Like a true Gryffindor," she said, smirking.

Draco pretended he had not heard her last comment, then said, "Is it serious between you, then?"

Hermione took a sip of tea. "I think it is."

"Who else knows about you?"

"No one," she said, then met Draco's gaze with a pleading one. "Promise me, Draco, you won't breathe a word to anyone."

He nodded. "You have my word, but why all the secrecy?"

"Severus is my supervisor, and even if he wasn't, he's still Headmaster. If word somehow reached the Ministry that we were involved….well, you could imagine how it might look to them."

"As if _you_ would need to come on to Severus just to ensure you passed your placement here. You're smarter than half of those idiots in the Ministry combined."

Hermione blushed a little at his praise. "Thanks, Draco."

Draining the last of his tea, he said, "Just don't expect me to start covering for you."

"It never crossed my mind," she laughed softly.

Draco, for the time being, seemed to have had his fill of answers. He retreated back his usual corner and restarted the slow process of dissecting scarab beetles. The vividly coloured exoskeletons had to be carefully removed, then the legs, and finally the insides had to be scooped out. Hermione knew Draco hated it, and if she wasn't so far behind in her work she would have offered to do it for him. But her assignments had suffered this week as her mind had been focused on perfecting the cure for obliviation. However, with Severus now helping her she imagined that any problems with the potion would be corrected twice as fast.

"By the way," Draco called over his shoulder. "That letter for you is on top of the mantelpiece."

"Thanks."

Hermione summoned the letter and caught it as it fluttered towards her. Almost immediately she recognised the handwriting: it was from Ron. She hadn't heard from him or Harry for that matter in almost a year. It stung that her two best friends couldn't even find a few minutes to write and let her know they were safe. Sighing, she broke the seal on the letter and began to read.

_Hey 'Mione,_

_I just wanted to let you know that I'm back in Britain. It was great being an Auror and all, but it's not what I want in life. I heard from mum that you got a placement in Hogwarts; that's brilliant. What's it like there now? I bet Snape has the students cowering in terror…only kidding, 'Mione. The bloke's a hero in my books. _

_Well, anyway, what I really wanted to say was that I would like to come visit you at Hogwarts. Everything happened so fast at the end of the war, and we never got a chance to talk about...us. I would ask you to come to the Burrow, but you know mum, she wouldn't give us a moment's peace. So, I was thinking I could come during the half-term holidays. _

_Just owl me when you want me to come. _

_Love Ron. _

_P.S. I'm staying at the Burrow. _

Hermione groaned inwardly as she finished reading. Why did he have to bring this up, just when she and Severus had renewed their relationship? True, she and Ron had kissed during the final battle, but they were both so charged with emotions; it hadn't meant anything. Was Ron really under the illusion that there was something between them?

Folding the letter up, she tucked it into her pocket. "Draco, I'm going to the Owlery to send a reply. I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, Hermione," he said, "And thanks for the tea; I think you're improving."

"Git," she said playfully.

Draco's laugh faded as she closed the storeroom door. Over the past two months she had come to care for Draco as deeply as she cared for Harry and Ron. He also understood Severus in a way that few others ever would. No matter how much Harry and Ron saw Severus as a hero, they would never have accepted her relationship with him as readily as Draco had done.

Making her way towards the West Tower, Hermione thought over her reply to Ron. Should she just tell him that she was involved with someone else? No, that would be cruel. He deserved an explanation from her in person, at the very least.

Finally, she reached the Owlery. After climbing the stone staircase she removed a piece of clean parchment and a quill from her pocket. She had charmed this particular quill to have its own, never ending supply of ink.

_Hi Ron, _

_It's nice to finally hear from you. I'm glad, though, to hear you're safely back at home. I think that your suggestion to come to Hogwarts is probably the best. The students will be leaving for half-term next Friday, so any day after that will suit me. _

_Have you heard word from Harry since you've been home? Is he still in Europe?_

_It will be good to see you again, Ron. And yes, you are right; we never did get to talk much after the war. There's a lot we need to discuss, and I've so much I need to tell you._

_Take care_

_Hermione _

She read and re-read the letter, wondering if it seemed friendly enough, yet not too intimate. In the end she decided it would have to do. She carefully wrote Ron's address on the letter, then held out her arm for one of the school's birds. A small tawny owl landed lightly on her arm, and after it had the letter securely in its beak it spread it wings and flew from the Owlery.

As she made her way back down the stone staircase Hermione knew that Ron's letter was going to put a damper on her evening with Severus.

**~x~**

It was after seven in the evening when she finally flooed to Severus' quarters. After dusting herself off she got her first glimpse of his private rooms. It was clean, despite the rumours that were still in circulation amongst the students, and she couldn't help but be impressed with his collection of books. A wall of shelves bowed and groaned under the weight of books, while there were a dozen other stacks spread across the room.

"You're late."

Severus' voice startled her as he came through a doorway, which she suspected led into his bedroom. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers as usual, but he'd shed his robes, overcoat, and cravat. He wore a white cotton shirt, open at the collar, and Hermione found her eyes drawn to where a few curls of dark chest hair played with her senses, taunting her.

"I'm sorry."

"You hardly ate anything at dinner either."

"I wasn't aware I was being watched."

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to tell me what is bothering you, or do I have to keep guessing?"

Hermione sighed as she took Ron's letter from her pocket and handed it to him. She watched his face carefully as he read it, her stomach tightening when his obsidian eyes hardened.

"When did you get this?" he asked his voice low.

"This afternoon," she replied.

"And?"

"And what?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said yours and Weasley's relationship was purely a platonic one."

"It was and it still is."

"Clearly Weasley thinks otherwise.

Hermione ran a hand a nervous hand through her hair. "We kissed _once_ during the final battle. It meant nothing and I regret it ever happened." She waited until the tightness in her throat eased before continuing. "We were both so charged with emotion…and it just happened. We didn't speak of it again afterwards, but it seems Ron hasn't forgotten it."

Severus stood in silence as her words sunk in. He clenched the letter in hand tightly as an old familiar feeling reared its ugly head. He hadn't felt this way since Potter had wormed his way into Lily's heart. Jealously tainted with possessiveness gripped him as he was faced with the Weasley boy's romantic feelings for Hermione. He wanted to wring the little git's neck.

"Is he coming here, then?" he finally asked.

"Yes, and before you object it's better if he does," Hermione said, ignoring his scowl. "You don't know Ron like I do. If I said he couldn't come he'd assume something was wrong with me and he'd only show up unexpected. At least this way I can be prepared for him."

"What will you tell him?" he said, his tone laced with the barest hint of doubt.

Something changed significantly in Hermione's eyes at that moment. He cursed silently, once more having forgotten how well she knew him.

"I'll tell him what I told you; that kiss meant nothing, and he'll never be more than a friend."

Severus relaxed somewhat and he opened his arms to her, enveloping her when she stepped into his embrace. He was grateful that she understood him enough not to patronise him for allowing doubt to creep into his thoughts. He had never been comfortable in expressing his emotions, and he was more than thankful that Hermione did not require constant flattery and reassurance.

After a minute he drew back from her. "Will Potter be coming with him?"

"No, I think Harry is still in Europe. But I don't want to talk about Ron any more. I came here to see you, Severus."

In answer he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers; his kiss commanding yet tender. He felt her hands press against his chest, her cool palms touching his warm skin through the thin cotton of his shirt. Severus felt a stirring in his loins, and he heard Hermione moan with disappointment as he pulled back from her. Gods knew he wanted, desired her, but it was still too soon. They both needed time to adjust, to rediscover each other before becoming so intimate.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

Hermione smiled at him, reassuring him that she wasn't too disappointed. "Yes, anything but tea; I'm all tea'd out for the day."

Severus nodded and disappeared out of the living room. He returned a few minutes later with two glasses of red wine. After motioning for Hermione to sit down on the sofa, he handed her a glass and settled down beside her.

He waited until she took a sip, watching her face closely.

"This is a Domaine Belot," she said, her eyes widening with surprise. "It's my favourite."

Severus draped an arm across her shoulders. "I know."

"Where did you get it from?" she asked, almost having forgotten how thoughtful...and romantic he could be when he wanted to.

Severus smirked. "I have my contacts."

Hermione leaned in closer to him, content just to sit beside quietly him for the rest of the evening.

"You're free to borrow whatever books you like," Severus said, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Hermione surveyed the hundreds of books again. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"I've found that 'A' is always a good place to begin."

She dug her elbow into his ribs playfully, then said, "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter 14**

**~x~**

On Saturday afternoon, Severus finished signing the last of several letters to be sent out by owl to the Board of Governors. He set the quill down onto his desk, removed his wand, and waved it over the stack of letters. Instantly, the sheets of parchment folded themselves, with the address of each governor appearing the outside of the now sealed letters. That done, Severus called for a house-elf and had him take the letters to the Owlery, which were to be delivered immediately.

Once he was certain that he had completed all necessary administration, Severus flicked his wand again to clear his desk. He hoped to see as little of his study as possible over the next two weeks, though no doubt someone would see fit to interrupt his half-term break. As he rose from his desk he glanced at the portrait behind his desk out of habit, but Dumbledore was not in his frame. Severus, though, quickly remembered that old wizard had mentioned he would be visiting his frame at the Ministry today. While he was unsure for what reason, it was clear that even as a portrait Dumbledore had not lost his interest in politics.

Sweeping his gaze over his study one last time, contented that everything was in order, Severus left his study. As the door closed, though, he heard muffled, disgruntled voices. However, he was unfazed by them as he had little interest in conversing with the other portraits, especially Phineas Black. The former Slytherin Head's interference still angered him, despite that fact that it had eventually brought Hermione and him together. As he descended the spiral staircase he resolved that he would leave instructions after his death, detailing where he wished his portrait to be hung. A disused classroom in the dungeons would suit him perfectly well.

The deserted corridors were a welcome sight as he walked purposefully towards his quarters. Most students had left earlier that morning for the half-term holidays, and would not return for two weeks. As for those who remained they were to report to their House heads.

It was not long before he reached his rooms, and after speaking the password, a portrait guarding the entrance swung open. He stepped inside and removed his robes, hanging them on a hat stand by the door. He tugged at his cravat, loosening it slightly, but left his overcoat buttoned. From his pocket he removed a gold hunter-case watch and checked the time: he had another half an hour before Hermione arrived. It would be plenty of time to begin brewing Pepper-Up potion for Poppy. Even though he was Headmaster, Severus still insisted on supplying the school's Healer with potions, which seemed to have greatly pleased Poppy. He had always found pleasure in brewing, particularly now, since he no longer had to teach new generations of dunderheads.

As he prepared the ingredients he would need, his mind turned to the letter Hermione had received the previous day. The Weasley boy was coming to Hogwarts - tomorrow. As much as the idea grated on him, Severus knew he had no right to keep Hermione from meeting with him. Indeed, he believed it would only do more damage than good by dictating to her on this matter. Not that he had much cause to fear; after all, the only thing Hermione and Weasley had in common was Potter.

"Severus?"

"I'm in here, Hermione."

A moment later, Hermione appeared in the doorway of his small potions laboratory. She removed her satchel and set it on the floor, then joined him at the workbench. It had only been a week since the renewal of their relationship, yet already they were becoming more comfortable with each other.

"Pepper-Up?" she asked.

Severus nodded. "Yes, it's for Poppy."

"So, the rumours are true then?"

He arched an eyebrow. "What rumours?"

"That Madam Pomfrey doesn't trust anyone else to brew potions for her," she said casually.

Severus snorted. "If you must know, I offered to continue to brew for Poppy."

"You're too modest, Severus," Hermione said with a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "If you're going to sit in here, make yourself useful and stir this while I finish chopping."

"Of course," she said her face alight with eagerness.

Severus' dark gaze softened somewhat, then said, "How was your morning?"

"It was fine," she said. "I took a walk around the grounds; I'd asked Draco to join me, but he refused. One of these days, Severus, I'm going to have him taking daily walks with me."

"Good luck with that," he replied dryly.

Hermione held back her next question until she had finished stirring the potion clockwise twelve times. She had almost grinned from ear to ear when he had asked her to help him. Severus, she knew, was very particular about his potions, and allowing her to assist him dispelled any lingering doubts she might have had. For, two months ago, she was sure Severus would have rather eaten a jar of pickled frogspawn than have her, or anyone for that matter, help him.

"You don't think I can do it, hmmm?" she said, removing the stirring rod, and wiping it clean.

"Draco is even more stubborn that you, Hermione," Severus remarked, his eyes glittering with faint amusement.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I am _not_ stubborn."

Severus tapped his chin with an index finger as if in thought. "Perhaps I was thinking of the other Hermione Granger, then," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?"

Hermione glared at him half-heartedly. "As I saying, I think Draco would benefit from getting out more."

"I agree," he answered more seriously. "But you must not force him. Draco might not show it, but the night you were stunned unsettled him greatly."

"Did you ever discover who was responsible?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Severus shook his head. "No, but I believe whoever attacked you is in Slytherin."

"Slytherin? B-But Draco was a Slytherin."

"I'm inclined to believe it was the relatives of Death Eaters who attacked you. The Malfoys are seen by some as traitors; they gave the Ministry a long list of names to keep Draco from prison."

Hermione felt her heart beat faster. "Severus, _you_ were a Death Eater, too…What if –"

Setting the knife in his hand down, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Look at me, Hermione," he said silkily. "I succeeded in fooling one of most powerful wizards of this century – for almost twenty years, I might add. That, among other things, has kept me safe since the end of the war. Rest assured, Hermione, I am not in any danger."

The intensity of his gaze and the smooth richness of his voice slowly settled her fear. She didn't resist when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. He held her silently for a few moments, then as he drew back from her he caught her chin tenderly. His kiss was slow, searching, but it succeeded in making her forget the dread that had flooded her body only minutes before.

Their intimacy was cut short, however, when the cauldron began to bubble and splutter. Severus released Hermione, surprisingly allowing her to bring the potion under control.

"I was reading through my research this morning and redid some of the Arithmancy," she said, stirring the potion clockwise. "And I don't think that removing just a single memory will be enough to effectively test the anti-obliviation potion."

Severus stopped slicing and looked up at her sharply.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, Severus," she reassured him.

"Then, please, do enlighten me," he said wryly.

"You told me that Dumbledore made a copy of your memories, so –"

"You wish me to do the same for you?"

"Yes."

Severus crossed his arms over this chest. "Exactly how much memory are you wanting me to obliviate."

Hermione looked away from him, focusing instead on the potion.

"How much?" he repeated firmly.

She bit her bottom lip before finally lifting her gaze to meet his. "A week's worth."

He continued to stand rigid beside her, but she saw his features relax. It was so slight, though, that anyone else might have missed it.

Severus picked up the knife again, then said, "Then you had best pick a week of inconsequential memories."

Although it would be nothing like what he had gone through; after all, he'd had a twenty year gap between being obliviated and having his memory restored. But still, he did not want Hermione to cause herself any unnecessary strain.

After he had added in the rest of the ingredients to the cauldron he lowered the flame beneath it, leaving it to simmer. He then washed his hands and motioned for Hermione to lead the way into the living room.

"Have you had lunch yet?"

"No."

"I thought as much," he said, then added at her curious stare. "If I recall correctly, who was it who used to sit in her flat and have to be forcibly dragged from her work?"

Hermione blushed, but smiled nonetheless. "I'll take cheese on toast in that case."

"Do you want it with Worcestershire sauce?" Severus asked.

"They have it here…at Hogwarts?" she said, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, I had a few bottles bought in. I could never quite understand where my liking for it came from." He arched an eyebrow. "Now, I know."

Hermione laughed.

A moment later, Severus called for Winky and she appeared with a _pop_ in the middle of the room. He asked her to prepare cheese on toast for Hermione as well as ham and mustard sandwich for himself.

Half an hour later, after they had eaten, Severus waved his wand to clear away their empty plates.

"Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded that she was, though Severus saw her swallow hard.

"What memories am I to copy and obliviate?"

"A week during fifth year; all I did was study for my OWLs."

"Close your eyes, Hermione," he said.

Severus did not want her to see the slight tremble of his hand as he raised his wand to her head. This was not a nameless enemy or a Death Eater; this was the woman he loved. Whispering quietly, he first made a copy of her memories, and then carefully placed the silvery thread into a phial.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, then said, "_Obliviate_."

Hermione opened her eyes a few seconds later. She seemed a little confused, but he reached out and took her hand in his.

"Hermione," he said, "Did you study hard for your OWLs?"

She blinked once, twice, then replied. "I-I…I don't remember…But, then, how did I pass? Oh Merlin –"

"It's all right," he reassured her. "It's time to see if this potion of yours works."

Suddenly, understanding flickered across her eyes. "Oh, right, you obliviated those memories."

Severus removed the stopper from the phial containing Hermione's experimental potion and handed it to her. He had meticulously read over her notes, and was confident that the ingredients would not cause her any ill effects if it should fail in its primary purpose. His gaze never strayed from her face as she drank all the contents of the phial.

"Ugh," she said, screwing up her face. "It tastes disgusting."

Severus took out his watch and opened it. "If nothing happens in the next five minutes I will insert your copied memories."

"All right, but –"

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She pressed a hand to her forehead. "It hurts like hell, that's what's wrong."

"Lie down," he ordered.

She did not need to be told twice and quickly lay down on the sofa. Severus knelt on the floor beside her, moving his wand in small circles about her head. She could hear him muttering under his breath, but the pain only continued to increase. Reaching out, she gripped his other hand, squeezing it tightly. It must have hurt him, but to his credit he did not flinch.

At the moment she thought she would pass out the pain slowly began to subside. And then, images began to form in her mind; she saw herself furiously reading through her books, all the while wishing Harry and Ron would find somewhere else to study. A triumphant smile spread across her face.

It had worked.

"Hermione?"

"It worked, Severus. The memories, they're back!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Firstly, I have to say that I am so sorry that it has taken me weeks to update! Life, as usual, managed to get in the way. Well, this is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue, so stay with me...Thanks to everyone who has followed this story, your support has been amazing!**

**Now, on with the show...**

**Chapter 15**

**~x~**

Hermione spent the whole of the following morning hunched over books and rolls of parchment, attempting to correct flaws in her potion. It had worked and restored her obliviated memories, but the pain involved was excruciating. After the initial elation of the potion's success had worn away, Severus warned her that to use it on her parents as it was could prove fatal. Reluctantly, she had agreed with him; after all, there was a vast difference between a week's worth of memories and eighteen years worth. Part of her, though, felt as if she was back to square one, and it could possibly take years to perfect the potion.

Heaving a weary sigh, she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her fingertips in small circles at her temples. Severus would be annoyed with her if he knew she hadn't taken a break since breakfast, and so, she decided it was time to do so. He had a habit of dropping in on her unannounced and she did not want to be caught bleary eyed. It was a mild autumn day outside, and Hermione decided to take advantage of it. Soon winter would have the landscape in its icy grip again, making it a chore rather than a pleasure to go outdoors. Pulling on a jumper, she then placed a charm on her research. It was unlikely that anyone would come into the storeroom and snoop around, but still, it was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

Once outside, Hermione took in the fresh air then headed down towards the lake. Older students lounged in small groups on the grass, while a band of lively first years were enjoying a game of tag. As she passed several Gryffindors she heard them whispering, picking up her pace when one said a little too loudly, "Why don't you ask her?"

Having made it safely to the lake without being cornered, she soon found a quiet spot to unwind. It wasn't long before her thoughts drifted to Severus, and Hermione couldn't help but think on what would happen when she completed her placement at Hogwarts. She lifted a pebble and skimmed it across the lake, watching the ripples in its wake spread across the glassy surface. Ever since Severus came back into her life a niggling voice kept throwing doubt on her future career. Not only would she have to move back to London, but her workload would be demanding. Hermione sighed as she flopped down onto a mossy log. She didn't want to have to slot Severus into her life; she wanted him to be part of it.

Staring out over the lake, she saw a small, black dot moving swiftly across the cloudless sky. Soon the dot was close enough to make out a figure on a broom, and she jumped up, realising that it must be Ron streaking towards the castle. She had completely forgotten that he was coming to Hogwarts, _today_.

Without wasting another moment, she hurried back to the castle, reaching the main door just before Ron landed smoothly a few feet from her. Hermione's stomach knotted with nervous tension as he removed his flying goggles and a Muggle-style flap cap. His hair was a tousled mess, as always, and he had grown another inch or two in the last year. But as she studied his face she was taken aback by the hardness in his eyes.

"Hermione," Ron said with a half-smile, "I knew you'd be waiting for me."

"I was just coming back from a walk, it was good timing, that's all," she corrected him gently.

Ron opened his arms to her. "Well, aren't you going to give me a hug?"

Hermione moved closer to him, allowing him to embrace her. He squeezed her tightly, holding her there longer than she felt comfortable with. Finally wrenching free, she stepped to a safe distance from him. Though, she silently scolded herself for being distant with him.

"Do you want to come inside? I'll make us some tea and we can talk," she said, smiling, though it did not quite reach her eyes.

"Sounds good to me."

When they came into the main hallway, Hermione turned towards the stairs leading down into the dungeons. It only took her a spilt second, however, to realise that Ron wasn't following her.

"Where are you going?" he asked, confused.

"To the dungeons."

He folded his arms, then said in a whiny voice she had heard many times before, "Why? I don't want to talk down there."

Hermione felt her impatience grow, nevertheless, she replied calmly, "My study area is down there."

It took another few moments before he uncrossed his arms, then motioned for her to lead the way. It hit her as they descended the stairs and stepped into the dimly lit corridor that she felt as comfortable down here as she would in the Gryffindor common room. Glancing over at Ron, it irked her that he still clung onto his prejudice concerning all things Slytherin. Not all Slytherins were egotistical and power hungry. Surely Severus' actions had shown him that, not to mention Narcissa Malfoy. Without her, Harry would never have come out of the Forbidden Forest alive.

"So what do you do down here all day?" he finally spoke.

"I have a number of assignments to complete for the Ministry," she began. "The one I'm working on at the moment is really rather interesting. Of course, it's all still theoretical, but I am hoping that I can start some practical experiments in the coming weeks. The main ingredients –"

"OK, yeah, I get it," he said, cutting her off, though he only remained silent for the space of a two heartbeats. "Say, did you see the headlines in the _Prophet_? Viktor Krum was bought by the Black Knights in Nottingham for fifteen million galleons. It's bloody unbelievable! No player has _ever_ been bought for that kind of money…"

Hermione took a deep breath to keep from saying what she really thought about it. Instead, she half-listened to Ron as he continued to blather on about Krum and Quidditch in general. It stung that for once, just once, he couldn't even pretend to be interested in what mattered to her. His lack of interest, though, only reinforced to her why a relationship with him would be doomed to failure. True, her relationship with Severus was not always a walk in the park, but at least with him she could be herself and not be cut down for it.

Mercifully, Ron stopped rambling as they approached the storeroom. She saw his nose wrinkle slightly with distain, but he managed to keep his opinion to himself. When they entered she motioned for him to sit down, offering him a cup of tea. It was a feeble attempt to stall Ron as long as possible from launching into the reason he had come to Hogwarts.

"Wouldn't you rather have a room above ground?" he asked, eyeing the rows of jars on the shelves.

"I would have, but there weren't any other room available," she answered, turning away from him as the kettle whistled.

"I bet Snape put you down here on purpose. The place is crawling with Slytherins."

Hermione almost rolled her eyes at his comment. "I think, Ron, Professor Snape is more mature than that."

After muttering something unintelligible under his breath, Ron said, "Is the tea ready yet? Do have any biscuits or cake…Cake would be good."

"I've only got chocolate digestives."

"Yeah, they'll do, but you should think about getting some cake, too."

"Do you ever stop thinking about your stomach?"

Ron patted his stomach. "Nope."

For the first time since he had arrived Hermione offered him a genuine smile. Despite their differences she did have fond memories of him and Harry. The tea was ready a minute later, though Hermione was careful to sit opposite Ron and not beside him. He shifted in his chair and she knew he was nervous. All of a sudden, part of her felt guilty for having him come all this way just to disappoint him. Perhaps she should have simply told him how she felt in a letter.

Ron took a sip of his tea. "So, what are you doing for half-term?"

"I think I'm going to stay at Hogwarts. I've got a lot of work to get caught up on."

"Oh," he said, "It's just..."

"Just what?" she asked, although she knew what he wanted.

"Well, I was hoping you'd come stay at the Burrow. It'd give us a chance to spend some time together and I know mum and dad would love to see you."

Hermione hands tightened around her cup. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I can't."

"Christmas, then?"

Hermione took a deep breath. It was time to let Ron know exactly where he stood with her. "Ron, I need to be honest with you. I love you like a brother, but I can't pretend that there's going to be something between us, because there won't."

"But…we kissed. There _was_ something there, I felt it."

"We were in the middle of a battle; we could have died at any moment…And…And when you said about saving the house-elves…Well, I…I was just so proud of you. I never meant anything by it."

"Why didn't you tell me before now?" he asked, his lips thinning slightly.

Frustration flashed across her own eyes. "I would have told you, but you took off so quickly after the war. And I haven't heard from you or Harry in a year. Your mum didn't even have an address for you, for Merlin's sake."

"Look, I'm sorry, OK," he snapped. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"

Hermione stiffened slightly in her chair. She and Ron had fought with each other countless times over the years, but she sensed that this conversation would not end as amicably as she had hoped. It was on the tip of her tongue that she was involved with someone else when the storeroom door creaked on its hinges, Hermione's stomach coiling as Draco entered.

"Hermione, have you seen –"

Draco next words faded, his whole body tensing as his gaze settled on Ron. His right hand instantly hovered over his left arm where he kept his wand tucked up his sleeve. Shifting his gaze from Weasley to Hermione, he saw the slight nod of her head as if to say she was OK, and he should probably go. Before he could move, however, Ron was on his feet.

"YOU! What in bloody hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron demanded.

Hermione saw anger flash in Draco's steel-grey eyes, and spoke before he said something that could prove disastrous. "Draco's my friend, Ron."

"Friend!" Ron exploded. "Are you bloody having me on? He's a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake, or did you forget that part?"

Draco's wand was in his hand only a split second after Ron drew his. He and Weasley had faced-off each other numerous times during school, but the menacing glint in his eyes unsettled Draco. It was a look he had seen too many times before; a look he still saw in his own reflection. He had seen things during the war that continued to haunt his dreams; things that might have caused him to go mad if not for Severus and Hermione.

"Put your wands away, both of you!" Hermione ordered.

Ron disregarded her, instead tightening his grip on his wand. "It's as well I came when I did, Hermione. Merlin only knows how he got his hooks into you."

Hermione placed herself between the two wizards. "He's my _friend_, Ron! What's so difficult about that to understand?"

"Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye…_Fred_; they're all dead because of the likes of him," Ron spat. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Draco never wanted to be a Death Eater; he was forced to," Hermione tried to reason with Ron. "He tried to save us, remember, at Malfoy Manor? He didn't tell them that it was Harry –"

"Save it, Hermione," Ron growled, shifting his gaze to Draco. "Now, you listen to me you slimy git. You stay away from her, cause if you don't I'll –"

"You'll do what exactly, Mr Weasley?"

In unison, all three of them turned to where Severus loomed in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, his ebony gaze boring into Ron. Draco immediately lowered his wand, but Ron stubbornly held onto his. A thick, tense silence engulfed the storeroom, which was finally pierced when Ron dropped his wand arm down by his side. Severus took a step inside the storeroom, glanced briefly at Hermione, swiftly satisfied that she was unharmed.

Well, Mr Weasley, I'm waiting," he said in a tone he used with troublesome first years.

"He's a Malfoy, Snape. He should be in Azkaban, along with his filthy, murdering –"

"ENOUGH!"

Severus' withering glare and the authority in his voice silenced Ron instantly. He then turned to Draco and motioned for him to leave. Draco had more sense than to argue with him, even though it was fairly obvious to Severus that his godson would take great pleasure in hexing Weasley.

Once Draco was gone, Severus moved closer to Hermione, ready to put himself between her and Weasley if it came to that.

"If you don't mind, Snape, now that Malfoy is gone I'd like to continue with my conversation with Hermione. Alone." Ron said stiffly.

Severus felt the slightest brush of Hermione's fingers tips across the back of his hand. He didn't need to see her face to know that she wanted him to stay, not that he had any intention of leaving her. It was only for her sake that he hadn't already taken Weasley by the scruff of his collar and tossed him down the front steps of the castle.

"I'm afraid I am going to have to cut your visit short, Mr Weasley, as I require Miss Granger's assistance," he said smoothly.

Ron glared at Severus. "I just flew all the way from the Burrow. I'm bloody not leaving until I've said all I have to say."

"Then, by all means, spit it out and be done with it."

"What? With you standing there, Snape. No way," Ron said.

Severus turned away from Ron with a bored expression, then said, "Miss Granger, if you follow me, please."

Ron reached out and grabbed Hermione's wrist before she could take one step. She drew in sharp intake of air as his fingers dug into her skin, stopping Severus in his tracks. He spun around on his heels, glaring murderously at Ron. Anyone else would have had the sense to let go of her wrist, but Ron held her fast in his iron grip.

"Let her go, Mr Weasley. Now," Severus said in a low, menacing voice.

"I _need _to speak with her, Snape." Ron ground out his words, then sneered slightly. "She's my girl, you know."

Hermione thumped his chest. "I am not _your girl_, Ron!"

"Merlin, Hermione, what's wrong with you?" he said, letting go of her wrist, rubbing his chest.

It was clear to her that Ron was not going to give up his 'claim' on her easily. So, she stepped back from him, and ignoring all reason, she entwined her fingers with Severus'. He didn't flinch beside her, but she felt him lightly squeeze her hand.

"What the –" Ron said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm with Severus now, Ron."

Ron gave a short laugh. "Is this some kind of joke? If it is, it's not very funny."

"It's not a joke, Ron," Hermione said quietly.

"B-But he's old…He was our teacher, for Merlin's sake. That's just gross, Hermione!"

"If you're quite finished insulting me, Mr Weasley, then I think it's time you left. I believe you know the way out," Severus said coolly.

Still holing onto Hermione's hand, Severus gently pulled her along as he walked towards the door. Glancing behind her shoulder, she saw Ron still rooted to the spot in shock, with the curl of his lip also betraying his disgust. A small part of her felt sorry for him, but she hoped one day he'd see she was right; they were all wrong for each other. Severus released her hand once they stepped out into the corridor, but he motioned for her to follow him into an empty classroom. Striding up to the front of the room, he took a handful of floo power and waited silently for her to join him.

"Headmaster's quarters," he said clearly.

Less than a minute later, Hermione stepped out of Severus' fireplace. She dusted soot of her clothes, then looked to where Severus stood with his arms locked behind his back. His features were unreadable, but she could sense that he was not happy.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said softly, "I know we were supposed to keep things between us quiet, but it was the only thing I could think of to –"

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Hermione," he broke in. "I am only concerned about your future."

Hermione bit her lip, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

Severus narrowed his eyes slightly. "What is it?"

"It's just…I'm not sure I want to work for the Ministry anymore."

"What brought this on?"

"You, actually."

Arching an eyebrow, he said, "Dare I ask how?"

Hermione felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Well, I…I don't want to have to move away from you. We'd never see each other and…and frankly I don't want that."

For a long moment Severus remained still, while his mind processed what she was saying. She was willing to give up a career as a researcher, for him. He dropped his hands down by his side, then slowly walked towards her.

"Hermione, think about this carefully. You'll be giving up your future."

"What - living in a flat in London on my own and only being able to see you once in who knows how long. Yeah, some future that is."

Severus gently cupped her chin with his hand. "And you are sure you wish to remain here?"

Her throat tightened as she nodded. "Yes, I'm positive."

His lips curled in the slightest hint of a smile. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Leaning down, Severus kissed her thoroughly, passionately. He savoured the taste of her lips on his, every stroke of his tongue eliciting a soft moan from her. Finally, he pulled away from her, tenderly tracing a finger along her cheek.

"Well, shall we go and pen a letter to the Ministry?"

Hermione laughed. "Lead the way, Professor."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Well, this is it! Again, I want to say thank you to everyone who has followed this story...**

**Enjoy...**

**Epilogue**

**~x~**

**2 YEARS LATER**

The irritating buzz of an alarm clock dragged Severus from his sleep. With his eyes still closed, he reached out and thumped the damned thing, quickly silencing it. However, it had done its work and Severus would soon be forced to leave his warm cocoon. For now, though, he turned over, moulding his body around his young wife. She sighed softly in her sleep, and Severus draped an arm across her. Closing his eyes again, his mind drifted, and soon he was thinking of all that had happened since Hermione had given up her post at the Ministry.

For almost a year and a half, he and Hermione had worked ceaselessly on solving the problems concerning her anti-Obliviation potion. It had been frustrating at times, and had caused more than one argument, but in the end they finally succeeded. Severus remembered how he had wrapped a supportive arm around her waist as they walked up the driveway to her parents' house in Sydney. The blank expression in their eyes had brought Hermione close to tears. Even though she had known they would not recognise her, it hadn't made actually experiencing it any easier. Using the ruse that he and Hermione were interested in buying a property in that area, they had asked the Grangers if they could look round their home. They had also relied on the British fixation of offering tea to guests as a way to slip them the potion. True to form, within fifteen minutes of stepping foot in the house, Mrs Granger had made them a pot of tea. That had been the easy part.

It was a few weeks before the Grangers finally decided to let their daughter back into their lives. Things had been tentative to begin with, but the Grangers' love for their only child soon pushed through all of the mess and heartache. Not long after that, Severus, who had been welcomed warmly by Hermione's parents, asked her to marry him. When word of their engagement leaked out into the wizarding world, it had been headline news in the _Daily Prophet_ for a week. And for almost a month after that, articles continued to appear concerning the 'heroes of the war'.

Half an hour later, Severus finally forced himself to get up. Rubbing his eyes, he carefully pulled away from Hermione and slipped quietly from their bed. He found his slippers at the foot of the bed, then he removed his dressing gown from a hook on the back of the door. It was still early, but as Headmaster he was not afforded the luxury of sleeping in late. The Board of Governors were due to arrive at the castle promptly after breakfast, and he had half a dozen letters to respond to before breakfast in the Great Hall.

He had only entered the living room when a gentle tapping on the turret window drew his attention. With a slight flick of his hand, the window opened and an owl flew in, landing elegantly on the table beside him. It dropped the post in its beak onto the table, then flew away once it had received a biscuit from Severus. Reaching for the morning edition of the Prophet, he tucked it under his arm before looking through the rest of the post. One letter was for him, the other three were for Hermione. Taking the newspaper with him to the sofa, he sat down, opened it, and began to read. Thankfully, he and Hermione had been considered 'old news' for some time now, though Potter still managed to make it into the papers at least once a week. Sometimes Severus felt a twinge of pity for him. The young wizard couldn't even attend a Quidditch match with his new wife, Ginny, without having cameras thrust in his face.

"Good morning, Severus," Hermione greeted him sleepily, as she shuffled into the living room.

"Morning," he replied from behind the paper.

"Anything interesting happening in the world?"

Severus lowered the paper, then arched an eyebrow. "_Apart_ from Potter's appearance at a Quidditch match?"

Hermione glared half-heartedly at her husband before going to the table to open her post. A moment later, and exactly on time, a house-elf appeared in the room with a _pop_, leaving two cups of freshly made coffee on the table. She bowed then disappeared back to the kitchens. Without taking his eyes of the paper, Hermione saw Severus wave his hand, summoning a coffee cup to him. Sometimes she envied his skill at wandless magic.

After taking a sip of coffee, she opened one letter and began to read. It was from Ginny. She and Harry had married six months ago, after he had finally accepted an Auror post that was based in London. Ginny had told him that they couldn't have a proper relationship if he kept buggering off for months on end to track down Death Eaters. Hermione wasn't sure what had finally swayed Harry's mind, but she was glad he had wised up in the end, and realised what he had with Ginny. As she continued to read, she was pleased to learn that George was expanding his business – he planned to open a joke shop in Hogsmeade. _Fred would have been proud of him_, she thought wistfully, then looked over at Severus – if George valued his life, he would steer well clear of her husband. Ginny ended her letter with news that Ron had met someone recently, and so far things were looking pretty good. It wasn't long after their disastrous confrontation two years ago that Ron's family began to notice a change in him as well. Eventually, it was discovered that he was suffering from – in Muggle terms – post-traumatic stress. He had never allowed himself to grieve for Fred properly.

"Who are the letters from?" Severus asked.

"There's one from Ginny, one from my mum, and…oh…"

Severus lowered his newspaper. "What is it?"

"It's…I think it's from Draco."

In an instant Severus rose from the sofa and walked the ten steps to the table where Hermione sat. He pulled out another chair and sat down beside her, waiting anxiously as she opened the envelope. Seeing his wife's hands tremble slightly as she unfolded the letter, Severus draped a comforting arm across her shoulders. A moment later, though, she handed it to him, then leaned in closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Clearing his throat, Severus started to read.

_Severus and Hermione,_

_I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I'm sorry I haven't written to you before this, but circumstances didn't allow me to. Mother and Father are fine, though my mother rarely leaves my father's side. It won't be long I'm sure before our disappearance is splashed across the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. My parents, and I agreed with them, thought it would be best not to sell Malfoy Manor. House-elves are keeping the estate in order, and it will buy us a little longer before someone realises that we are no longer living in the country. _

_We've settled on the outskirts of a small village close to the Alps. Of course, my father isn't altogether thrilled to be living so close to Muggles, but we don't want to risk being recognised in the French wizzarding world. I'm not sure if we will return to England any time soon, as the thought of another onslaught by reporters would be too much for us all – most of the British wizzarding world is still reeling after my parents' early release from Azkaban. _

_Though, if you both were ever to decide to holiday in France, I would love to see you. It's not all bad here, and I have made one or two friends, including a nice girl, whose father is the landlord of a small pub in the village. That, however, is something I will have to break to my father gently; could you imagine his face if I were to tell him I rather fancy a Muggle. _

_I promise not to leave it so long before writing to you again. _

_Take care_

_Draco _

Severus continued to stare at the letter for a few moments after he finished reading. He felt Hermione relax beside him, and knew she was as glad as he was to finally hear from Draco. Finally, he folded the letter, handing it to her again, watching her briefly as she tucked it into a pocket of dressing gown.

"At least we know he's safe," Severus said, rising from his chair.

Hermione smiled at him. "And he's making friends."

"Somehow I don't think Lucius will be quite so pleased."

"He'll just have to get used to it, then, won't he," she said, taking another mouthful of coffee.

Severus said nothing, but simply shook his head as he returned to finish reading the paper. He wasn't about to start an argument with his wife over whether or not Lucius Malfoy would accept his son's involvement with a Muggle.

"Well, I'm going to get ready," she said after a few minutes.

"Breakfast isn't for another hour," he said.

"I know, but I just want to go over a few things before then."

Detecting a trace of anxiety in her voice, Severus set down his newspaper and stood. "Come here," he said.

Hermione walked towards him and stepped into his embrace.

"You have nothing to worry about, Hermione," he said in a low, silky voice.

"But what if I don't live up to everyone's expectations?"

"You would not have been given this position if I or Horace, or the Board of Governors did not think you were capable of it."

Hermione hugged him tightly. "You better wish me luck, then."

"You don't need it, Professor," he said, tipping her chin gently to kiss her.

Half an hour later, Severus donned his customary black robes, then turned as Hermione walked from their bedroom. A faint smile touched his lips as he watched her adjust her new teaching robes. He had no doubt that she would make an excellent Potions professor; a fine replacement for Horace Slughorn…and himself.

"Are you ready?"

Hermione sighed, then nodded. "Yes, I think so."

"Remember," he said firmly, "If the students give you any trouble send them straight to me."

"I will."

Satisfied, Severus opened the door to their quarters. "After you, then, Professor Snape."

**THE END**


End file.
